It was dark when Will returned. I heard him softly close the hall-door after him. He came into the room where I was lying and sat down beside me.
"Girlie ... I have something to say to you...." His speech showed a little thickness and I smelled the liquor on his breath. His tone was kindly and I felt my rancour soften.
"First, don't let us lose our heads again ... it doesn't help matters.... Gailbraith and I have talked it over ... and the kindest thing I can do is to give you a divorce.... That sounds cold-blooded, doesn't it, between you and me?... but it's the only thing ... the only right thing. Gailbraith says I'm not playing fair by you; that I am ruining your life and cheating you out of happiness which I can't give you myself ... and I guess he's right.... I guess Gailbraith's right.... We've drifted pretty far apart—I realize that now ... but—I want you to believe me when I say you are the only woman I have ever loved—or ever will love. The rest are just—experiences; some of them fascinating while they last, but none of them the real thing. No one will ever replace you in my heart ... that's certain.... It's too bad—too damned bad.... It's this hellish business! There ought to be a law to prevent actors from marrying.... Now for the business end of it: I know you won't drag in any names as corespondents. We'll fix that up later. I'll give you a lump sum, now—it can't be as large as I should like it to be, for there isn't much left. When my season opens I'll make you a weekly allowance until—until such a time as you are able to dispense with it. I'll see my lawyer—to-morrow, and fix things up with him..... Don't you think it might be well for you to go away for a few days to avoid the newspaper blow-up?"
I nodded. I could not speak....
"There, old pard ... don't take it so hard.... I guess that's all for the present. I'll be at the club any time you want me.... Good—good-night, Girlie ... and God bless you...."
In the days which followed I appeared to myself like a rudderless ship in a choppy sea. I did not see John Gailbraith again. He sailed within a few days after the scene in the studio. In a letter written from the boat he told me he had not forced himself upon me, knowing my wishes and respecting them. "Be true to yourself is all I ask," the letter ran, "and know that whatever you may decide as best for yourself that shall I abide by."
Following the serving of the papers on Will for absolute divorce, I left town. Those wretched days were spent on railroad trains, fast trains, flyers. I got off one only to board another. The sense of "going somewhere" was in keeping with my mood. When I returned to New York, worn and relaxed, I appreciated the quiet of what once had been home.... Will had already installed himself at the club. The dismantling of the apartment was a nerve-racking task. Memories, bitter, sweet, crowded on each other's heels, "so fast they followed." Will had left a list of books and trinkets which were to be packed and sent to storage in his name. In an old trunk, buried beneath dust and grime in the bin, below stairs, I found endless souvenirs of my married life. Photographs, letters, my wedding flowers; press-notices, carefully preserved in a large scrap-book; costumes I had made for Will in the early days of our struggle; Boy's first shoe.... This inscription on the back of a large photograph Will had given to me on the day of our betrothal: "To Girlie from her Boy—until death do us part and even in eternity." ... Letters, breathing hope and fears and always—love.... Damp with tears, I gathered the symbols of the wreck and plied a match. I watched them as they burned ... and crumbled to ashes ... ashes....
* * * * * * *
I sat in the rear of the dim theatre where I had slipped unnoticed, after the lights were lowered. I had come to see him as a kind of leave-taking. To-morrow, the open sea ... a new world.... His voice thrilled me as before: I smiled at familiar little tricks and mannerisms.... His features had coarsened somewhat; his figure taken on flesh, but it was the same Will ... the same handsome lover of my youth. The scene faded from my view.... I lived again in the past; all rancour dead, a great tenderness and regret—regret that it should be so. Silently I stole away, while the lights were low. "God bless you, dear," I whispered in my heart, "God bless and keep you, dear."
THE END