This morning I am
resolved to let the world go hang, and teach one of the conspirators
a lesson she won't forget in a hurry."
Mollie looked alarmed.
"Not a divorce, guardy? Surely not the public scandal of a divorce? All
must come out then."
"Not quite a divorce," Mr. Walraven said, coolly; "its next-door
neighbor. A quiet, gentlemanly, and lady-like separation."
"Guardy Walraven," said Miss Dane, solemnly, "don't do anything rash."
"I don't intend to. I've thought the matter well over. Didn't get a wink
of sleep last night for it. We won't break our hearts"--with a cynical
sneer--"myself nor my gentle Blanche. I don't know why we married,
exactly. Certainly not for love, and we will part without a pang."
"Speak for yourself, guardy. I dare say Blanche will be frantic."
"Frantic at leaving a house on Fifth Avenue--frantic at leaving you
mistress in her place--frantic that she can't be my blooming young
widow--frantic at all that, I grant you."
"Guardy, don't be dreadful," adjured Mollie, pathetically. "If I can
forgive Blanche, I'm sure you may.
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