“I thought you were a strong man, Cardover, or I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I have. You fell in love with my wife without knowing she was married; I don’t blame you for that. But after you knew, you followed her--followed her to her home-town. You’ve made an impossible situation. You can’t leave it at that; you’ve got to help out, and, by God, you shall. I’ve got to lose her and stand the disgrace of it. You’ve got to lose your self-respect. What d’you think life is, anyhow? If you gamble, you incur debts. We’re going to play this game to a finish. You talk of decency and honor; you should have thought of them earlier. You came here to rob me of my wife; well, now I’m going to give her to you because she can’t do without you. And now, out of consideration for me, you want to crawl out at the last minute. Your crawling out may save appearances, but it don’t alter facts. You’re something worse than a blackguard--a quitter.” He drew in his breath as if he were about to strike; then he flung out his fist, shaking it at me. “Don’t you want her?” “You know I want her.” “Then what’s the matter? Are you afraid of the price?” “The price she’d have to pay and you’d have to pay--yes.” He frowned. His face was puckered with suspicion. “Isn’t it that you’re afraid for yourself?” The heat of his anger scorched me. I had watched this interpretation of my conduct taking shape under my repeated refusals. “I’ve been accused of counting the cost before to-day,” I said. “I’m not counting the cost now. I’m thinking of Vi with her clean standards and her sense of duty. If she were the woman to consent to what you’re proposing, I wouldn’t want to marry her and you wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice yourself for her. But she won’t consent, and I won’t consent.” Lurching heavily to his feet, he stood over me threateningly. “Don’t you know I can force you? If I divorced her you’d have to marry her.” “But you won’t.” “But I would if I thought it was only for my sake you were refusing.” “It’s only partly for your sake.” “Why, then?” “I’ve shared your hospitality.” “And because of that you won’t take her?” “No.” “Then I’ll make you---- For the last time, will you take her?” “Not on those terms.” Our voices had risen. A silence followed. Behind us we heard a sound. The temperature of the room seemed lowered, as though something we had killed had entered. Turning, we saw Vi standing in the doorway. Her hair fell loose about her shoulders. She was thinly clad and had risen hastily from bed. Our quarrel must have reached her through the silent house. Her face was pinched and pitiful. As she watched us her eyes searched Randall’s in terror and her hands plucked at her breasts.