“Yes, I do. You see—I haven’t a friend left. I’ll never even like Eustace again. Polly may not be in love with you but she takes no interest in me or any woman when she is concentrating on a man. I’ve barely seen her except at table since she came here, and then she’s almost as silent as myself. I’ll never forgive Elsie. Perhaps you’ve guessed she cares a lot for Eustace?” “Yes, I think it possible.” “He should have married her—no doubt will in time. I’ve asked her to stay here and give him a chance to find out his mistake. But she failed me when I needed her most—I’ve been like a lost soul this last week and would have given everything I possessed for one good long talk with her. So, you see——” And her eyes so recently fierce, wicked, arrogant, looked as if pleading to heaven, and she smiled tremulously. He turned pale and gave the table a sharp rap with his fork. The lemon pie was neglected. “You place me in a beastly position,” he said harshly. “You are asking for friendship, and—well, Eustace is upstairs, wounded——” She lifted her head, looking less like a madonna than a Carteret. “This is my house and he is my very unwilling guest—unwilling on both sides.” “He is still your husband.” “He never was my husband.” She saw where this digression was leading and added hastily: “Not that I want to hear about anything else. I—well, I suppose it doesn’t matter if I say it—I suppose I should have loved you if I could love anyone. But I can’t. That’s final. Your sister and Polly say I’m asexual.” Dr. Pelham swore fluently and shamelessly. “But it’s true——” “That subject—and all it connotes—may not come within the province of surgery, but I happen to have a friend who is a distinguished endocrinologist and psychiatrist, two sciences which are more dependent on each other than is generally known. We have discussed the subject until I know as much about it as he does; and it happens to interest me profoundly. You are no more asexual——” “I am. I want to be. I don’t wish to talk about it. But if you don’t want to be my friend——” “I’ll be your friend—God knows I never wanted to help anyone more—until you and Eustace have put an end to your marriage farce. Then, by God—oh!” Polly’s laugh rang through the hall. Gita sprang to her feet. “Go out. Don’t let her come in here. Tell her I’ve had to go to the kitchen——” He followed her precipitate retreat and caught her by the arm. “You must——” She was cowering away from him. “Let go! Let go!” she said through her teeth. “I hate being touched.” And she pressed her hand against her chin. He dropped his hand but his eyes flashed. “I’d not do anything you disliked—thought you disliked—for the world. But tell me when I may have a talk with you again. How can we be friends if I never see you alone? Polly and Elsie both here—there’s Elsie’s voice—have you ever been on the salt marshes at night?” “No.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ve always wanted to.”