"Go in there," pointing to the garden room below the balcony, "and wait there with your husband." He half led, half pushed her into the room which had been his business office, and returned to the patio.

A hesitating voice from the balcony said, "Clarence!" It was his wife's voice, but modified and gentler--more like her voice as he had first heard it, or as if it had been chastened by some reminiscence of those days.

It was his wife's face, too, that looked down on his--paler than he had seen it since he entered the house.

She was shawled and hooded, carrying a traveling-bag in her hand.
"I am going, Clarence," she said, pausing before him, with gentle gravity, "but not in anger.

I even ask you to forgive me for the foolish words that I think your still more foolish accusation"-- she smiled faintly--"dragged from me.