Why? Was it anger that she should be there with Sassoon? If it were only true! She tried to seize upon this idea, but all her courage had evaporated. She felt all at once without enthusiasm. If that were so, then she was wrong; perhaps he would never believe her. "That was Judge Massingale, wasn't it?" she said aimlessly. Sassoon jerked his head in assent, adding viciously: "Family affair. Gets out as soon as he can. Mrs. Massingale entertaining some imported geniuses, probably." "Who?" "Mrs. Massingale." CHAPTER XIII Mrs. Massingale! Doré heard the name a second time without quite realizing what it meant, as if the sound were suspended in the air before her, waiting for recognition before taking flight. She did not comprehend--she could not comprehend! The thing was too incredible! "Ah, Mrs. Massingale," she repeated mechanically. All at once a sharp pain penetrated to her heart. The riot of fork and knife, the busy live sounds of conversation, were lost in a confused drumming in her ears. Everything became blurred to her eyes, except the mounting W of Sassoon's mustache and the round eyes of Ida, which seemed to grow rounder and bigger before her. She felt suddenly stricken, and yet unable to cry out--suffocated. She let her head fall slowly, staring at the plate before her, a yellow and red plate with a curious scroll design in the center. No! She could not understand. It was not possible that such a thing could befall her. Married! Massingale married! Blackness--a wall--a wall that had no opening, that could not be scaled or turned. A waiter was offering something at her side. She nodded, taking up a fork, all quite mechanically. Inside she felt a hand closing over her heart, contracting it painfully. Then all at once she experienced a burning feeling of shame and anger across her shoulders, on her cheeks, and on her lips where his kisses had touched her. How she had been entrapped, blindly, foolishly entrapped, caught and humiliated at the last, despite all her cleverness! Now she understood, in a flash of understanding, why he had not come, why he had not written, why he had not telephoned! He had gone further than he had meant. It was his conscience he was fleeing from--that conscience he had forgot when he had returned to her door! "I understand! I shall see him no more!" a voice said within her. "It's all over. It never was anything!"