Standing by the window, she wondered as she had done over and over again

for ten years, what would have happened if, instead of marrying Howard,

she had married Judson Clark? Would he have settled down? She had felt

sometimes that in his wildest moments he was only playing a game that

amused him; that the hard-headed part of him inherited from his father

sometimes stood off and watched, with a sort of interested detachment,

the follies of the other. That he played his wild game with his tongue

in his cheek.

She left the window, turned out the lights and got into her bed. She

was depressed and lonely, and she cried a little. After a time she

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remembered that she had not put any cream on her face. She crawled out

again and went through the familiar motions in the dark.




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