“I’m going upstairs.”

“We’re not through.

“Yes, we are.”

“Aren’t you going to divorce me—or would that hurt your career?”

“You’re not yourself, Gage,” said Helen. She had regained a loose hold on herself. “I’d sooner not talk to you any more to-night.”

He flattened the end of his lighted cigarette and pulled the chain of the table light.

“Then we’ll talk upstairs.”

“Not to-night.”

“Yes, we will, Helen. I’m lonely for you.” He came to where she stood. “Come along, my dear.”

There was not a tone in his voice that Helen could recognize. A kind of ugly caress—she shuddered.