She tortured herself now with the picture of him as he sat there in his room in Saxton Square writing it! It appeared to her now as though they two--there in the very throne of their triumphant love--had plotted this insult, this snap of the fingers, to show her, Lizzie Rand, how desolate, how lonely, how neglected and unwanted she was! That then, after this, Rachel should appeal to her for friendship! The cruel insult of it. She felt as she heard the fast drops of rain lash the window-frames, that no revenge that she could secure would satisfy her thirst for it. V Roddy, meanwhile, had gone out to the stables. That little talk with Lizzie had determined a resolution that had been growing now within him for many weeks. That little woman, with her assured air and neat little ways, knew what she was about--knew moreover what others were about. She had watched and had given him the tip--He would take it. Roddy's mind was of far too simple an order to admit of more than one point of view at a time. He saw Rachel now as a dog or horse, of whom he was very fond, who needed, nevertheless, stern discipline. He wondered now how it was that he had allowed himself for so long to remain indecisive. "London muddles a feller," he concluded; "the country's the place for clear thinkin'." He looked at his horses with great satisfaction, they were in splendid condition--he had never known them better. He also was in splendid condition--never been better. As he walked away from the stables and turned towards the end of the garden bounded by the gryphons and the stone gate, he felt his body at its most supreme perfection. He thought, on that afternoon, that he was strong enough for anything, and perhaps never before in his life had he been so conscious of the glories of physical things; of all that it meant to have fine muscles and a strong heart and lungs of the best and thews and sinews as good as "any feller's." "I'm strong enough for anythin'----" He turned back his arm and felt his muscle. He cocked his head with a little conceited gesture of satisfaction--"I was gettin' a bit fat in London--got rid of all that." To walk, to ride, to fight, to swim, to eat and sleep, to love women and drink strong drink! God! what a world! And then, beyond it all, Rachel, Rachel, Rachel! He had her now--she should be under his hand, she should be his as she had never been since the first week of their marriage. "No more nonsense, by God!" he said triumphantly to himself--"no more nonsense." He leaned on the stone gate and looked out over the fields--The gryphons regarded him benevolently. He was conscious, as he stood there, of the Duchess--what was the old lady doing? He'd like to see her. He felt more in sympathy with her than he had been for a long time past. "She's right after all. You've got to stand up and run people. No use just lettin' them handle you."