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“The point is I may have to go on. No, it isn’t. The point is I may have a chance—a chance of being happy and making her happy too. I wish to God she and I could thrash this out. But that’s impossible. For one thing, her opinion’s valueless. Whether she’d be happy, poor, she hasn’t the faintest idea. And so I’ve got to decide for both of us....

“ ‘Got to decide’? The point mayn’t ever arise. Unless she makes a move, everything goes by the board. And as like as not she won’t.... Well, then—finish. If she can get through, I must. She’s free to change her mind, but I can’t do another man down. I can’t reopen things. That’s plain. Heaven or burning hell, my mouth’s shut and locked, unless and until she speaks. If she says she can’t go on, an’ if ...”

He passed to the open window and stood looking down upon the fading street and men as trees walking and lamps beginning to come into their own.

After a little he laughed.

“I’ve lost my balance, I think—leapin’ about like this before I come to the ditch. The first thing I’ve got to do is to raise the wind.”