"How terrible! Loretta Davis read me a paragraph last week to the effect that Mr. and Mrs. Waldo were not happy. I set it down as baseless gossip. It seemed to me impossible that Mrs. Wilson's daughter--Ah, I am so sorry for Mrs. Wilson." "She was in the office last week." "I remember." "She came to consult me; to see if anything could be done. She has reasoned with her daughter--used every argument in her arsenal--but without avail. Mrs. Waldo's one idea is to be free. And yet she has had every opportunity." "But that proves nothing, Mr. Perry, surely." They had reached the threshold of Lincoln Chambers. There was the courage of conviction in the frank gaze she bent on him. "Only that the power to have everything may numb the spirit and make individual self-will the sole arbiter of conduct." "Agreed. But there can be no doubt that civilization offers us more to-day than it ever did if we can only be put within reach of it. The thought sometimes haunts me that I may die and Henrietta grow up to be like--like Loretta Davis; never know what life may mean, because she has not had the chance." He looked at her admiringly. "I am more than half teasing you," he said. "While it is true that the general standard of living is higher than ever before, it remains true as ever that only the attuned spirit can grasp and utilize the best. To argue otherwise would be cant." "So it seems to me," she said, with her air of direct simplicity. "As for this tragedy--for it is a tragedy almost Sophoclean in its scope, as you will presently learn, my lips are sealed for the moment beyond what I have told you. But you are right in your enthusiasm for Mrs. Wilson. She is in touch with the temper of the world's progress--according to her lights." She smiled faintly. "I still wish I were more like her." Gordon seemed for a moment to be pondering this assertion, then fixing her with his eyes, said: "I believe you have never heard anything from your husband since he deserted you?" "Nothing." "You do not know his whereabouts, nor whether he is alive or dead?" She shook her head. "More than three years have elapsed. So you are entitled to a divorce in this State, if you see fit to claim it." Constance had listened in astonishment. His tone was so respectful that she could not take offence. He seemed to be merely informing her as to her rights; and though the topic had never been broached up to this time between them, was he not her intimate friend? Nevertheless she felt agitated. "It has never occurred to me that a divorce would be desirable," she answered with as much formality as her dislike of artifice allowed her to adopt. Then, yielding to curiosity or the inclination to break another lance with him, she added: "Of what benefit would it be to me to seek a divorce?" "Merely that the bond is already broken; what remains is a husk."