hump, and leave it at that. I leave it at that, and change the subject with startling suddenness. Where's Chubby? I really came here to see him, and not you, and he isn't here. Do you allow him to stop out just as late as he chooses? I shouldn't. Chubby has a charm that might lead him and others into temptations."
Maud got up and followed Lucia into the room.
"Yes, I let him stop out just as late as he chooses," she said. "Fancy not doing so!"
Lucia was walking up and down the room in a fit of restlessness. Here she stopped for a moment, looking rather keenly at her friend; then she dropped her eyes and continued her pacing.
"Oh, I've caught it from Edgar!" she said. "He always quarter-decks if he has anything on his mind. But as long as you catch your husband's tricks it's all right, isn't it? Chubby: yes. Oh, Maud, what shipwrecks men can make of women's lives. What brutes men are! And the train of thought that suggests this seems to be Chubby. Poor Chubby! Do tell him that the mention of his name instantly made me think of domestic shipwreck."
A great serene smile spread over Maud's face.
"Yes, I certainly will," she said. "That's the kind of childish joke that amuses Chubby and me. But again I disagree with you. Nobody can make shipwreck of your life. If a man behaves disgustingly, and you don't love him, it is no shipwreck; you are sorry; it is very sad—but, after all, you don't love him. And if—if the man you loved behaved like that, I don't see that even that, Lucia, could touch your love. Love is so much bigger than anything a person can do."
Maud paused a moment, lit by her own phrase.
"Yes, just that," she said. "Deeds, actions cannot touch it. At least, so I think and believe. God forbid it should ever be tested."
Lucia had stopped again when Maud said "Nobody can make shipwreck of your life." And as Maud went on she stood there very still. It seemed that she almost stopped breathing, for the gold sequins that were sewn in an Oriental pattern on to the bodice of her gown no longer twinkled and scintillated, as with the stir of her rising and falling bosom the light caught now one and now another. She had come here from the Opera, and wore many jewels; but they, too, both the tiara on her head and the three rows of diamonds round her neck, were still also. The
