"To-morrow."
He nodded his satisfaction. "Tell him," he suggested, "that you love another man, and——"
"No," she interrupted, "I won't tell him that. I'll say that I've tried my best to be a good wife, that I've tried as best I knew to make him happy. I'll say I've—" she choked on the word—"I'll say I've failed. I'll tell him I can do no more, that I do not believe I can ever do any better than I have done, and ask him to tell me frankly whether or not he prefers to be free. That's all."
How Different?
"That isn't enough. You have rights——"
"We're not speaking of my rights," she said, coldly. "We're speaking of his."
A silence fell between them, tense and awkward. The open gate between them had turned gently upon its hinges, then closed, with a suggestion of finality. The clock struck the half hour. Outside, the cricket still chirped cheerily, regardless of the great issues of life and love.
"Come outside," Alden pleaded, taking her hand in his.
"No," she said, but she did not withdraw her hand.
"Come, dear—come!"