Her great eyes chided him reproachfully. "He is not bad, poor Alexis. You misjudge him. It is not his fault that he doesn't love me." He looked incredulous. "Why did he marry you, then? Isn't he responsible for his actions?" She shook her head. "He couldn't help himself. I was literally thrust down his throat!" "You can't make me believe that he didn't know what he was doing! Of course he is obviously a neurotic. An arrant egotist. The sooner you're rid of him the better. He is taking advantage of your inexperience. And now you think you've got to pay for it the rest of your life. Why, you haven't lived one-third of it yet. Give him up. Let him go to the devil his own way. Don't allow him to drag you down with him. You are beautiful, appealing----" "No, no!" "I think so! Give some other chap the chance to make you happy." The blanched lips twisted into a wry smile. "You are only trying to be kind. I wish you wouldn't. I like you better when you're honest. Nobody has ever been in love with me in all my life. Nobody has even thought about me like that." "I have," he replied simply. Dumbfounded, she sat up in bed and leaned towards him uncomprehendingly. "You have?" "Yes," he reiterated sturdily. "I have. Ever since our drive to Bronxville. And you've been happy with me, too. Didn't we have a good time when we bought the hat and the earrings? Haven't our little supper parties been fun?" A wave of scarlet flooded her face and neck. "You don't know what you are saying. Yes, of course I've been happy with you. But that doesn't mean we love each other! Perhaps you pity me. But the other is--is absurd." Her shaky tones contained both a question and a longing. "Why will you persist in depreciating yourself? Has nobody ever told you how sweet you are?" He bent over her and grasped the tiny hands in his. "Claire, I love you and I want you to divorce this man and marry me. I know I can make you happy. I will live only for that. I'll take you to Chicago and in new surroundings you will forget all that you have had to suffer. Listen, darling, won't you believe me?" She drew her hands away with a little sob. "But you don't understand. You forget----" "The baby, you mean? Why, no, I haven't forgotten him at all. I want him too. 'The more, the merrier!'" He laughed unsteadily. Tears gushing from beneath the heavy lids, she looked up at him. "Oh, you are a dear, and I cannot bear to hurt you. But it is all impossible. Even if I didn't love Alexis it would be impossible. I could never consent to a divorce. You see, I'm a Catholic!" "A Catholic!" His startled gaze rested for a moment upon the ivory rosary at the head of the bed. "Yes," she whispered, "now you understand, don't you? And you won't think I'm ungrateful? Say you understand?" His set face retained its look of determination. "I suppose so! But it seems too awful. Don't spoil both our lives." Hands upon her ears, Claire looked at him beseechingly.