"Where were you married, Alves?" Miss M'Gann pursued anxiously. "Here or in
Wisconsin? You were so dreadfully queer about it all."
"We were not married," Alves replied, in a quiet voice, "at least not in a church, with a ceremony and all that. I didn't want it, and we didn't think it necessary."
The younger woman gasped.
"Alves! I'd never think it of you—you two so quiet and so like ordinary folks!"
"We are like other people, only we aren't tied to each other by a halter. He can go when he likes," Alves retorted. "I want him to go," she added fiercely, "just as soon as he finds he doesn't love me enough."
"Um," Miss M'Gann answered. "Lucky you haven't any children. That's where the rub comes."
Alves straightened herself with a little haughtiness.
"It wouldn't make any difference to him. He would do right by them if he had them."
"I don't see how he could, at present," Miss M'Gann proceeded, with severe logic. "It's all very well so long as things go easily. But I had rather have the ring."
After a little silence, she continued: "It must have had something to do with that, I guess, your being dropped. Did any one know?"