“Only so long as I was unaware of what it was all about. But I’m sure I would have told you eventually.”

“I wonder,” she said. “You wouldn’t have told me anything if I hadn’t found—this.”

“Well, maybe it’s your fault, then, rather than mine. You shouldn’t have been snooping in my suitcase.”

“Do I hide things from you? No, I don’t have to!”

He went to her again. “Give it to me.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Keep it, of course.”

“I insist that you give it back to Cliff!”

“What earthly good would that do? He wanted me to have it. He’d only be hurt if I gave it back.”

“And what about me?” she said. “Doesn’t it matter at all about me?”

“Ethel—Ethel! If we’re going to dwell only on this fool cap and ignore everything else, we’ll get nowhere. The cap itself is nothing. My wanting it is what mattered. Now that I understand why, the cap doesn’t count.”

“Then give it back!”

“You can throw it out the window,” he said, “tear it to pieces, burn it—anything you like, I don’t care. But I will not return it to Cliff. He wouldn’t understand.”

She looked up at him; and he saw in her eyes—the eyes he had known so well and for so long—a cold hatred.

With difficulty he tried to recover himself, but his heart despaired as he finally turned guiltily away and went toward the bathroom. “I’m going to dress,” he said as nonchalantly as he was able, “and go down to lunch. It’s late. Are you ready?”

By the time he came out, she was packing her things. “What are you up to?” he said.

She did not answer. There was a finality about her silence, about her every move, which told him she was through. Apart from his grief at such a turn of events, his pride was affected. “You don’t mean to tell me you’re leaving?”

There was still no word from her whatever.

“How do you expect me to explain this to the others?” he cried in frustration and anger. “How on earth can I possibly account to the Haumans for such an abrupt departure?” Even as he asked the questions he realized their futility. What did it matter in view of the realer, the more serious issue? Ethel was leaving him. Unwilling to believe it to be true, however, he went downstairs.

Self-­conscious in the extreme, he explained to Billie and Cliff that Ethel was indisposed. Because of the scene he had just been through as well as the suddenly oppressive presence of both Haumans, he excused himself from the table as soon as he decently could.