He was embarrassed. "I will think it over," he said weakly. He never alluded to my threats of divorce. He seemed to have forgotten all about them. Since he had been ill, I had been kind, and as much like my former self as I possibly could.
Two days passed. Arthur's health was improving rapidly. We could start now at any time he chose to name, but he seemed in no hurry to refer to our American trip.
On the third day, when I tried to enter Arthur's room, I found the door looked. I was alarmed and knocked until my knuckles complained very painfully. I stopped suddenly, arrested by a noise I heard in the room. It could only have been the opening or shutting of the window, but it sounded strangely to me. I knocked again. Arthur hastened to the door and opened it. His face was red, and he seemed agitated. I looked at him in surprise.
"Why did you lock the door?" I asked, not sharply but curiously.
"Why not?" he said with a nervous laugh, "is there any law against it, Elsie?"
