She stared at him, incredulous relief in her face, while the tears still slid unchecked down her cheeks.
"Max—" she stammered.
"Yes," he returned. "You're free of me. I don't suppose you'll believe it, but I love you too much to . . . take . . . what you won't give."
A minute later the door closed behind him and she heard his footsteps descending the stairs.
With a low moan she sank down beside the bed, her face hidden in her hands, sobbing convulsively.
CHAPTER XXIII
PAIN
Summer had come and gone, and Diana, after a brief visit to Crailing, had returned to town for the winter season.
The Crailing visit had not been altogether without its embarrassments. It was true that Red Gables was closed and shuttered, so that she had run no risk of meeting either her husband or Adrienne, but Jerry, in the character of an engaged young man, had been staying at the Rectory, and he had allowed Diana to see plainly that his sympathies lay pre-eminently with Max, and that he utterly condemned her lack of faith in her husband.
"Some day, Diana, you'll be sorry that you chucked one of the best chaps in the world," he told her, with a fierce young championship that was rather touching, warring, as it did, with his honest affection for Diana herself. "Oh! It makes me sick! You two ought to have had such a splendid life together."