"Who is to have this—afterwards?" he said.
She stood up straight.
"You didn't think I would give that away?"
"Well—" His air puzzled her.
"Would you be content," she said, "to think of any one else wearing it?"
"Content! But sometimes it's hard to believe you are facing the thought of laying it aside."
She flushed under his look.
"I don't know that I shall lay it aside."
While he stared she went out of the room, shutting the door.
He sat for a moment, following up first one train and then the other suggested by her speech, till he had convinced himself finally that the explanation of these last days lay in the fact that she was not facing the compact. She would elude it. He started to his feet. It was as if he had been brought face to face with proof of wifely infidelity.