He shrugged his shoulders. Carelessly he said:

"The law says that a husband--"

"The law! The law!" she echoed disdainfully. "Always remember this--the minute a husband even mentions his legal rights it shows that he has lost his moral rights and the moral rights are the ones that count." Changing her tone to one of pleading, she went on: "Let me go, dear! Please let me go!"

He smiled significantly at her.

"You just be a nice, good little wife, and in the morning you can go down to Tiffany's and buy anything you like, anything--"

"Ha! ha!" she cried desperately, hopelessly, "no wonder you talk of buying me! If I did that where would I be any better than a woman of the streets?"

Without stopping to hear his answer she turned quickly and again made an effort to reach her room.

"Good night!" she cried.

But once more he intercepted her.

"You're not going to leave me," he said warningly.

"I am, I tell you! I am!" she cried defiantly.

"Oh, no, you're not," he said determinedly, and approaching as if about to lay hands on her.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, recoiling as he advanced.

"At least not till you have given me a kiss--just one. Then you can go."

"You promise that?"

"Yes."

"Just one?"

"Just one," he said.

Thinking to get rid of him the sooner, she put up her face and kissed him on the cheek.

"Not that kind," he protested, "a real one."

She shook her head. Wearily she said:

"I can't! I can't!"

"All right then!" he exclaimed with a laugh.

Without further argument he seized hold of her and drew her close to him in spite of her struggles to free herself.

"Let me go! Let me go, I say! Let me go!" she screamed.

He paid no heed to her cries, but drawing her closer until her face touched his, he stooped suddenly and kissed her full on the mouth.

Then he released her.

"Oh, my G.o.d!" she cried.

Directly she felt herself free, she rushed to her room. He tried to stop her, but this time she was too quick. She reached the room before him and bolted the door in his face. Balked of his prey, he stood for a moment looking at the closed door in sullen silence. Then, as if seized by a sudden uncontrollable frenzy, he seized the poker in the fireplace and rushing to the door, smashed in the panel. Putting his arm through the jagged rent, he coolly withdrew the bolt and entered.

CHAPTER XVI

Daylight filtered slowly through the closed blinds of the palatial Stafford home. Through the dark nocturnal hours its inmates--master, guests and servants, had slumbered peacefully, all but one and to her sleep refused to come. Hysterical, mentally overwrought, physically exhausted from continual weeping, Virginia had tossed feverishly on her pillow until at last dawn had mercifully come to dispel the terrors of the long night.

As she lay there in the darkness, she had tried to see some way out of her misery. The truth was out at last. He had admitted it openly, had even boasted of it. He had bought her and paid for her. He considered her not as a wife, a companion to respect and love, but as a creature whom he had purchased and who must do his bidding at his command. What ignominy! There was only one thing a self-respecting woman could do in such circ.u.mstances. She must boldly a.s.sert her independence and leave him, no matter at what sacrifice of her comfort and happiness. It would be better to undergo any privation rather than endure such suffering, such degradation as this.

She could earn her own living. Perhaps she could get back the same position at the hotel, and if f.a.n.n.y and Jim would have her, she could go and live with them. It would mean the sacrifice of many luxuries and much pride, but at least she would be able to lift up her head and look all decent people squarely in the face again. She would give him back all his jewels--every one. Much as she loved them, she would return them all--the diamond sunburst, the pearl necklace, the ruby cross--everything. They were the things he had bought her with. Hadn't he said so? Maybe it was true that she had married him only for his money. Well, if it was true, this was her punishment, the cross she must carry for her wickedness, and it was also why she must leave him.

She would never give him another opportunity to accuse her of having bartered away her self-respect.

What should she say to him at breakfast? No doubt he would be very penitent and full of apologies. No matter what he might say, her mind was made up. She would listen in silence, and, breakfast over, begin to make her preparations for departure. f.a.n.n.y, of course, must be told everything, but not yet. There was plenty of time to tell her. The rupture would interfere, no doubt, with Jimmie's prospects, but it could not be helped. She could not be expected to go on suffering for their sake. They must all try and get along without the a.s.sistance of the rich Mr. Stafford. He would respect them the more if they did.

Everything occurred just as she had foreseen. Stafford woke with a terrific headache and thoroughly ashamed of himself. He had no distinct remembrance of the happenings of the evening before, but that he was drunk and had made a fool of himself he was pretty well sure.

If he had not been, Virginia's cold demeanor would have soon enlightened him. At the breakfast table he mumbled an apology and tried to awaken some sympathy for his headache. But his wife paid no attention and beyond the merest commonplaces, made no attempt at conversation whatever and the meal ended as it began, in icy silence.

After breakfast she went to her room and, ringing for Josephine, ordered her to get out her blue cloth walking suit. The maid opened wide her eyes in surprise. Her mistress did not usually go walking so early.

"Madame va se promener de si bonne heure?"

"Don't ask questions, Josephine," replied her mistress sharply. "Do as I tell you. I'm going out of town. Pack my two trunks at once."

"Oui, Madame."

While the girl hurried to carry out her instructions, Virginia went to her safe, opened it, and, taking out the jewel cases one by one, carried them into the library, where she piled them high on the table.

Soon there was quite a large heap of dainty boxes of every shape and color, each bearing the trademark of a fashionable jeweller. For a full hour the young wife worked steadily, packing and dressing, until at last nothing more remained to be done.

"Is that everything?" she asked Josephine, pointing to the boxes of jewelry on the table.

"Oui, Madame! All except those in the safe deposit vault, Madame."

"Oh, yes--I'll give you an order. You will go for them," said her mistress, going to a desk.

"Oui, Madame."

Virginia was just writing the order on the Safe Deposit Company when there came a knock on the boudoir door. The maid went to answer.

"Shall I open, Madame?"

"Yes."