"Naturally."
"He always made me feel I was disappointing him. And that isn't very pleasant. But now," said Louise, coming to the crux of the matter, "he has disappointed me. So we are quits at last."
"Ah," said Madame Claire, still in the dark. "That must be a relief."
"Oddly enough, it is a relief. Horrible as the whole thing is, I—I could almost be glad of it."
"I was wrong," thought Madame Claire, remembering a conversation she had had with Judy. "Eric is interested in some other woman, at last."
"And what is this horrible thing?" she asked.
"You may as well hear it," said Louise recklessly. "If I can bear it, I should think you could too. While I was away, Eric wired me he was going out of town for a few days. He didn't say where. I know now. He was seen at a small hotel in Paris with a—a questionable-looking woman. So our idol has feet of clay."
There was both bitterness and triumph in her voice. Madame Claire gripped the arms of her chair and tried not to laugh. What should she do? Good had been known to come out of evil. Should she and Eric let Louise think—what she thought? Her crying need was evidently to
