"
"I _haven't_ deserted her," Stefan retorted angrily. "I only came
away for a holiday, and the rest just happened. I should have been home
by now if I hadn't met Felicity. Oh, you don't understand," he groaned,
watching his friend's grieved, embarrassed face. "I'm fond of Mary
--devoted to her--but you don't know what the monotony of marriage does to
a man of my sort."
"No, I don't understand," echoed his friend. "But now, Stefan," and he
brought his fist down on the table, "now you will go home, will you not,
and try to make her happy?"
"I don't think she will forgive this," muttered Stefan.
"This!" Adolph almost shouted. "This you will explain away, deny, so that
it troubles her no more!"
"Oh, rot, Adolph, I can't lie to Mary," and Stefan began to pace the room
once more.
"For her sake, it seems to me you must," his friend urged.
"Stop talking, Adolph; I want to think!" Stefan exclaimed. He walked in
silence for a minute.
"No," he said at last, "if my marriage is to go on, it must be on a basis
of truth. I can't go back to Mary and act and live a lie. If she will
have me back, she must know I've made some sacrifice to come, I'll go, if
she says so, because I care for her, but I _can't_ go as a faithful,
loving husband--it would be too grotesque.
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