The first beam of morning sunlight found Carmelita still tossing about upon her pillow. Dudley's dramatic outburst and departure had thoroughly frightened and chastened her. Nothing in the world mattered now except proving to him that he was wrong, that their marriage could yet be a glorious success, that she was willing to make any sacrifice to assure that. There was one consoling thought: He had said that he would always love her.
She wondered bitterly if he would forgive her the lie upon which her life here in Hedgewood was founded.
The gods must laugh at the struggles of mortals to avoid admitting a lie even when it is the easiest way out of difficulty. Carmelita felt that she could die rather than go to her husband and admit her gambling and her debts.
She rose wearily and took a cold shower-bath to try and drive the ache from her head. She hardly touched the breakfast which her maid brought to her bedroom. She would start, she decided, by discharging her butler
