quite capable in a slightly crude way of telling what it 
meant to him and to her. 
" There's one thing," she said to him, one day, "I'm 
ten years younger than you are. I'll still be all right 
when you're fifty." 
He smiled at this keen understanding of life. It was 
these psychological touches, this occasional brilliant flash 
of raw, almost brutal understanding that fascinated him. 
He knew how she was figuring — on a physical basis 
purely. He felt that Edward Butler and his wife— 
their brute strength—were not entirely unrepresented in 
her. And what she said was probably true. He was not 
sure of that, but he loved her beauty just the same, and 
her mind—her awareness. 
" Yes, sweet, I think you will. I hope so, anyhow. 
You deserve to be." 
She felt sure that she was to have him all to her- 
self some day — how, she could not say ; but she 
" Do you think you'll ever get a divorce?" she occasion- 
ally asked. 
" You'll have to wait, honey. I'll do the best I can. 
When I do, we get married at once." 
Her eyes sparkled. 
Oh, to be Mrs. Frank Algernon Cowperwood! 
Explain me this riddle if you can. 
And now he was worried, at times, as to how he would 
ever rid himself of his wife easily and without publicity, 
and he thought and thought. There was no feasible 
way. There was no reasonable excuse for being brutal. 
He did not know that he wanted to be. That would be 
quite too unfair. But his life was so much larger and 
broader now. If he only had Aileen now, how much more 
suitably arranged he would be! Then came this storm; 
and the same day that brought Edward Butler the 
anonymous communication in regard to his 
brought almost a duplicate of it in the same hand to Mrs.