"Whether it be a separation or a divorce I have not yet made up my mind.
"There is only one reason why I should hesitate and that is the thought that possibly you might be glad of your freedom. If I were sure of that I'd punish you by asking for a separation. But I do not suppose it really matters to you. I think I know you well enough to know that you have no desire to marry again. And, as for the young woman in whose company you made yourself notorious before we were engaged--well, I think you would hesitate to offer her marriage, or even, perhaps, the not unprecedented privilege of being your _chère amie_. I do you the honour of believing you too fastidious to select a public fortune teller for your mistress, or to parade a cheap trance-medium as a specimen of your personal taste in pulchritude.
"Meanwhile your attitude in domestic matters continues to annoy me. Be good enough to let me know, definitely, what you propose to do, so that I may take proper measures to protect myself--because I have always been obliged to protect myself from you and your vulgar notions ever since my mother and yours made a fool of me. "WINIFRED STUART BAILEY."
With his care-worn eyes still fixed on the written pages he rested his elbow on the table and dropped his head on his hand, heavily.
Rain swept the windows; the wind also was rising; his room seemed to be full of sounds; even the clock which had a subdued tick and a most discreet manner of announcing the passing of time, seemed noisy to him.
"God! what a mess I've made of life," he said aloud. For a moment a swift anger burned fiercely against the woman who had written him; then the flame of it blew against himself, scorching him with the wrath of self-contempt.
"Hell!" he said between his teeth. "It isn't the fault of that little girl across the ocean. It's my fault, mine, and the fault of nobody else."
Indecision, the weakness of a heart easily appealed to, the irresolution of a man who was not man enough to guard and maintain his own freedom of action and the right to live his own life--these had encompassed the wrecking of him.
It seemed that he was at least man enough to admit it, generous enough to concede it, even if perhaps it was not altogether true.