The effect of her words was instantaneous. He turned suddenly, and showed in both face and figure a swiftly summoned and effectual calm. “My dear girl,” he said quickly, “you don’t suppose I’m posing for an injured husband, I hope? I have suffered, of course; but with a man certain kinds of suffering get to be a business. To speak of it seems like talking shop. It’s detestable to be talking it to you now; but the truth is, this wedding affair has nearly knocked me out. I could have gone on keeping up the bluff, of course, and talked the usual bosh with the wedding-guests in yonder; but I found I had a contract with myself that had to be seen to. It has cost me something to smooth out and harden down my thoughts and feelings about my own life; but I had got the thing done. This wedding business, however, upheaved it all. When I found that I was actually sinking into the mushy swamp of self-pity, I thought it was about time to come away, and steady up my nerve a bit. I’m all right now, however, and I see clear again. The thing’s over, and no harm is done.” Martha’s eyes followed him wistfully as he turned to the dressing-table, picked up a brush, and smoothed the swart surface of his thick, dark hair, brushed some specks of dust from his coat, and carefully straightened the injured flower. “Shall we go back?” he said. “We may be missed.” “Don’t go quite yet. No one will think about us,” she said; and then she added doubtfully: “May I talk to you a little, Harold?” “Certainly, my dear. Talk all you want,” he answered, sitting down; “only there’s nothing to say.” “Where is she? I’ve so often longed to know.” “I haven’t the least idea. She asked me not to follow her movements, and I never have.” “Then you do not even know whether she is living or dead?” “Yes; I know that much. She is not dead. I feel her in the world. If she went out of it, I believe I should know it. Besides, I would have been informed of that. She spoke of it, and said so.” There was a moment’s pause, which Martha broke. “Will you tell me this,” she said, “whether you are as hopeless about it all as you were when I last spoke to you of it?” “Exactly as hopeless. When a thing is absolute, my dear, it doesn’t have degrees. I have never been anything else than hopeless since the hour of my last interview with her. She told me then,” he said, with a sort of cold conciseness, “that her first wish was to set me absolutely free. She said she wanted me to marry again. She said that just as soon as we had lived apart the time required by law for a divorce, she wanted me to get it. She said she was sorry there was no way to get it sooner. She said, also, that she would take back her maiden name.”