Was he going to stay away all night?
And if he did, what would it mean?
She remembered what he had said when he left: "Then you and I are through, you know." All right, then what was he going to do! "I don't even know how a man goes about it, if he wants to get a divorce!" And panic seized her as before.

"I can't do this all by myself! I can't talk to him as I've got to talk--not till I know just what to say! I bungled it so! I need sound advice! Oh, for somebody to help me!" She thought of Dwight, but she would not go near him! She loathed the very sight of him now! Why had not he told her of those other affairs of his that could rise in this way against herself?
Why had he allowed her to do those few little daring things, which looked so cheap and disgusting in the detective's typed report?
And besides, if she did want to see him, could she, without being watched by some wretched detective?
For the whole town seemed bristling with detectives and police.

And the city of New York felt cold.

As she lay on her bed, a sudden gay laugh from a neighbouring window recalled to her mind that night long ago, her first in New York, when she had listened excitedly and thought of all the stories here, both sad and comic.
"Well, I'm a story now," she thought.

"And I suppose I'm comic!" The angry tears rose in I her eyes.