"I've been a fool about Magsie Clay," Warren admitted, "and Rachael learned about it, that's all. My Lord! there never was an instant in my life when I took it seriously, I give you my word, George!" "Well, if Rachael takes it seriously, and Magsie takes it seriously, you may find yourself beginning to take it seriously, too," George said with a dull man's simple evasion of confusing elements. "Rachael may get her divorce," Warren said desperately. "I can't help that, I suppose. I've got a letter from her here--she left it. I don't know what she thinks! But I'll never marry Margaret Clay--that much is settled. I'll leave town--my work's ended, I might as well be dead. God knows I wish I were!" "Just how far have you gone with Magsie?" George interrupted quietly. "Why, nothing at all!" Warren said. "Flowers, handbags, things like that! I've kissed her, but I swear Rachael never gave me any reason to think she'd mind that." "How often have you seen her?" George asked in a somewhat relieved tone. "Have you seen her once a week?" "Oh, yes! I say frankly that this was a--a flirtation, George. I've seen her pretty nearly every day---" "But she hasn't got any letters--nothing like that?" Warren's confident expression changed. "Well, yes, she has some letters. I--damn it! I am a fool, George! I swear I wrote them just as I might to anybody. I--I knew it mattered to her, you know, and that she looked for them. I don't know how they'd read!" George was silent, scowling, and Warren said, "Damn it!" again nervously, before the other man said: "What do you think she will do?" "I don't know, George," Warren said honestly. "Could you--buy her off?" George presently asked after thought. "Magsie? Never! She's not that type. She's one of ourselves as to that, George. It was that that made me like Magsie--she's a lady, you know. She thinks she's in love; she wants to be married. And if Rachael divorces me, what else can I do?" "Rachael wants the divorce for the boys," George said. "She told Alice so. She said that except for that, nothing on earth would have made her consider it. But she doesn't want you and Magsie Clay to have any hold over her sons--and can you blame her? She's been dragged through all this once. You might have thought of that!" "Oh, my God!" Warren said, stopping by the mantel, and putting his face in his hands. "Well, what did you think would happen?" George asked as Magsie had asked. Then for perhaps two long minutes there was absolute silence, while Warren remained motionless, and George, in great distress, rubbed his upstanding hair. "George, what shall I do?" Warren burst out at length.