"Sometimes I am inclined to think it's a hopeless experiment--our life together." Herrick spoke sombrely. "I have been wondering seriously of late whether it would not be better to make over all my property to my wife and rid her of my presence, I believe she would be happier by herself." "You mean--get a divorce?" faltered Toni. "A divorce?" In spite of himself Herrick laughed. "Oh dear no. I don't think I need take quite such drastic measures as that. What I thought was to set Eva up somewhere, in some new place, where she could start afresh, and then take myself off quietly--to California, or New Zealand, or somewhere of the sort, where an able-bodied fellow like me can be sure of picking up a living." "But would Eva let you go?" "Ah, there's the rub!" He spoke in a lighter tone. "When it came to the point she might think that even an unsatisfactory husband was better than none. But, speaking seriously, I believe two people so incompatible as we two are better apart." "Do you?" In the dark Toni's eyes were frightened. "Don't you think, then, that one ought to stand by one's own actions? I mean if a husband, say, honestly thought it would be better for his wife to be free from him, would you advise him to go and leave her? Or the other way about. Should the wife go, if she was sure that by staying she did the man harm?" Herrick was tired, disheartened by the frequent scenes with his wife, depressed by the grim autumn night; therefore for once his sympathies wore dormant and his intuition slept. He had no idea that Toni was speaking personally, that she was calling on him to help her to make the most important decision of her life; and he was, moreover, in a mood which found the idea of self-sacrifice, of renunciation of one's own happiness strangely attractive. "If he--or she--were practically convinced that departure would be the best way out--for both--why then I should say by all means go." In the darkness he did not see Toni's sudden deathly pallor. "Of course it would always be rather hard to be quite sure on that point; but in a case where one could be more or less certain--well, perhaps I'm wrong, but I should say the step would be thoroughly justifiable." For a perceptibly long moment Toni did not speak. Then she changed the subject abruptly by asking her companion the time; and after striking one or two matches he was able to assure her that it was just six. "Oh, then Owen will be back." She hastened her steps as she spoke, and there was little more conversation between them as they hurried along. At the gate he bade her farewell, refusing an invitation to enter; and Toni went through the garden into the house, there to be met by a telegram from Owen announcing that he had been delayed in town and would not be home in time for dinner. Toni was oddly relieved by this fact. She had an important matter to think out; and for once Owen's absence was welcome.