Hugh fairly glared as his wife swept triumphantly toward the door. “So that is your attitude, is it?” he frothed, and he had reached the open portal before her. From outside, he hurled back his ultimatum. “Well, then, I shall be forced to use other methods. I am determined to gain my freedom, and you can rest assured I will manage it in spite of you!” Still fighting for the dignity and self-control that had deserted her, Marjorie Benton stood still where he had left her for moments, her hand pressed to her heart. The tension broke. She swayed back and forth, staggering to the davenport. In its comforting depths she sank down, sobbing hysterically. “Oh, I can’t bear it—I can’t bear it,” she moaned over and over again. Fully, completely, now that she was about to lose her husband, Marjorie Benton realized how much she loved him. What a fool she had been to allow her pride and her silly ambitions to come between them. Her thoughts traveled back over the years to the time she was a happy wife and mother in her humble little cottage. She buried her head in the pillows, endeavoring to crush out the memories—memories that burned and scarred. She thought her brain on fire. With futile fists she beat the air, her one moan that this thing could not be true. In a frenzy she sprang to her feet and began to pace the floor. Up and down—up and down—she walked like an animal at bay, trying to peer into the darkness that seemed stretched before her. There might be years—God!—think of it!—Years of loneliness and heartaches waiting for her! Thoroughly exhausted, physically and mentally, she sat down heavily. Her brain refused to think any longer. Hot, bitter tears rained down her cheeks, and then, without the slightest warning, she began to laugh, at first almost inaudibly, then loud and wildly. What a huge joke life had seen fit to play upon her. She had passed years of unhappiness without uttering a single protest, sacrificing everything for her children, and it had brought her—this! In the hallway outside, Griggs heard the strange cachinnations. He came running in. “What is it, Mrs. Benton?” he inquired anxiously. “Why—why—” she began, looking at him in bewilderment. “You’re here all alone, and laughing so. Are you ill?” “Ill? Why no—I’m all right. Only something struck me as being very funny. We don’t have to read the comic sections of the papers, Griggs. All we have to do is look for the comedy in our own lives.” “Yes—Madame—I suppose so. But don’t you think you had better let me send for Marie? She will help you to your room. You are——” “No, Griggs, I’ll pull myself together in a moment, and I’m not going to my room. I shall wait here until Miss Elinor or Mr. Howard come in.” “But it is only ten-thirty,” Griggs protested, “and they may not come for hours.” “Miss Elinor is bound to come in early. She is at the Thurstons’. Just put another log on the fire, and I’ll wait.”