He turned and looked defiantly into Jonathan's eyes. He saw the suffering there. But Jonathan's voice was still gentle.

"You would do that?"

"I would do that."

"You mean," Jonathan persisted, "you will get a divorce? And then go to her?"

How ugly, how sordid, that seemed, spoken aloud in the clear light of morning!

But David said, "I mean that."

"Have you thought of--your wife?"

"She wouldn't be hurt, wouldn't really care."

"And you have a boy. A beautiful boy, I am told."

"That--that is part of the--price."

"Ah! the price! You have thought of the price then. And you are ready to pay it. Other people have paid it, I know. I have wondered if they didn't pay too much. David--" Jonathan looked away. "Have you thought of--_her_?"

"Can't you understand I am thinking of her? I can't let her be hurt.

And I want her--you can't know--"

He flung an arm over his face. And he was glad of the sharp pain that shot through his side.

"I know," said Jonathan. "I know."

They were silent for a while. The silence became almost unbearable to one of them. He let his arm fall slowly to his side.

"Well, say it! If you have anything against it, say it."

"No." Jonathan turned to him once more, sadly. "I have nothing to say against it. I know it would do no good, if I had. I say only, do it, if you think she will not be hurt--if you think you can. . . . I must go now."

He left. Soon the nurse returned. She looked closely at her patient and took a thermometer from the table.

"No!" he said sharply. "I'm all right. Just go away and leave me alone."

Being a wise nurse, she obeyed. . . .

When Jonathan reached his office a trembling white-faced girl was awaiting him.

"How is he?"

He told her. "It needn't be serious. But he had a narrow escape."

"Why didn't you let me know last night?"

"It would have done no good." He looked at her searchingly. But neither shrinking nor shame was in her eyes. "Will you go to him now?"

"Go to him? I-- Why do you ask that?"

"He needs you," he said. "There is no one else who can help him now.

Will you go?"

"Yes." She understood the help that was needed.

"Then come."

Together they went out to the street. He hailed a taxicab and they entered and drove away. Neither spoke during that ride. When they reached the house he led her to the parlor.

"If you will wait here," he said, "I will get the nurse away."

In a few minutes he returned.

"You may go up now."

He watched her ascend, heard her quick light tread along the hall above and the closing of a door.

"Esther!" he whispered. "My poor Esther! Who will help you?"

CHAPTER XIII

THE HAPPY ENDING

She halted just within the closed door. At first he could not believe it was she. For a little he went blind, a black streaming mist hiding her from him. But when it cleared away she was still there. Their eyes met and clung across the room.

"Esther! You came! I didn't believe--"

"He asked me to come."

"He asked you! I don't understand--"

"Would you rather I had stayed away?"

For answer he held out hungry arms toward her. He would have sat upright; pain and weakness were forgotten. But she was at his side in a breath.

"You must not."

She put her hands on his shoulders to restrain him. He caught them and held them close to him. She let him for a moment, then gently freed them from his clasp.

"It is no worse than he says--your hurt?"

"It isn't bad at all."

"You're sure? You see, I didn't know until I got to the office. And they made it out very bad there. They even said you mightn't live.