“I’ve been trying,” she said, “against all my principles, to be a wife—for nearly two years. We both agree that I was a failure at it. I shall never try to be a wife again, Felix.... As for freedom—You speak as one who knows what it is. I have still to find out. Do you think you can forbid me my little cupfuls of mad, mystical peace?” “Your coffee,” said the waiter. “If I choose to have adventures, who are you to say No to me?” she said mockingly. Felix did not answer. 4 “My paper is moving to Los Angeles this winter,” Rose-Ann said presently, in a casual tone. “And I suppose,” he replied, in an equally casual way, “that you are going along....” “I hope so,” she said. “The details aren’t settled yet, but I expect to go.... Perhaps very soon.” “I forgot to tell you,” he remarked, “that I am writing another play.” “I should like to see it before I go. Won’t you come in to see me occasionally? I’m going to stay in the studio until I leave. There’s no reason why we can’t be friends.” “None whatever,” he said. “I’m glad we’ve had this talk, Felix. Talk does straighten things out, doesn’t it? And now I must hurry back to the office. You _will_ come and see me?” “Yes. I’ll stay and finish my coffee if you don’t mind.” She went away, and he sat there for a long time, smoking cigarettes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ LX. A Leave-taking 1 ROSE-ANN left for Los Angeles during the Christmas holidays. During the month that had elapsed before her departure, Felix had been to see her several times a week.... There is something disconcerting in finding oneself treated by one’s wife as a new acquaintance—in a politely friendly manner, quite as she treats any other guest. He had gone away more than once secretly enraged, swearing that he would not go again; at other times it seemed to him a prodigious joke.