He lay there, stretched out on the ledge, and looked down into the nocturnal depths. In the contemplation of that widespread beauty calmer thoughts came back, little things fell away… . What had he been able to do for Laura Lou? What had she done for him? The tie between them had so quickly become a habit, an aquiescence, nothing more. Perhaps Laura Lou had been conscious of that too, perhaps she too had chafed and longed for freedom—or simply for relief from worry, for material well-being, a home of her own—all that he could never give her. His eyes filled… . What was there to prevent their both trying again?

He could not find the answer to this question. He had never heard of any reason why married people shouldn't agree to part and begin life again if they wanted to … only he could not picture its happening to himself and Laura Lou. Whenever he tried to, it was as if a million delicate tendrils, of which he was unconscious when he and she were together, tightened about his heart and held it fast to hers, in a strange bondage closer than that of love or desire. He lay and lay there, and tried to puzzle it out, but in vain. His last conclusion was: "Of course if she really wants to be free, she shall be—" and for an instant his soul blazed again with the rekindled light of opportunity… . After that, worn out, he fell asleep on his ledge… .

It was broad daylight when he woke up, aching and hungry. His watch had stopped, but from the position of the sun he judged it must be after eight o'clock. His first craving was that of a ravenous boy—for a cup of Mrs. Tracy's hot coffee. What was all the fuss about, anyhow? How different things looked by daylight, with the same old sun lighting up the same old daily road of duty. There was the office, there was his wife—and, oh hallelujah, there was his work! He sprang down from rock to rock, reached the road, and hurried homeward.

When he got to Mrs. Tracy's door he ran up the steps calling out Laura Lou's name. What nonsense it all seemed now, that ranting scene of last night! But to his astonishment the door was locked. He called again, shook the handle, banged on the panel—but no one answered. He walked around to the back of the house, expecting to find his mother-in-law among the currant bushes. "Laura Lou is sound asleep still, I suppose?" he would begin jokingly. But there was no one among the vegetables either, and the door of the back porch was also locked. Vance stepped back and threw a handful of pebbles at his wife's window, calling out to her again. Again there was no answer.

He returned to the front door, shook and rattled it without result, and finally, disheartened, sat down on the doorstep and wondered… .