‘At last,’ he cried, ‘I have found you!’ He would listen to nothing. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. Oh, it was very bad. Close upon this came another thought. She felt sharp animal teeth pierce her above her shoulder. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. But this is not sufficient. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. Burn your palette and your easel. He was normal now, and the coat was only a coat. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. .
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