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 "Why, didn't you know that?" the Minneapolis girl asked, pleased with the sensational effect of her news.

Every one gazed at Alice; then nearly every one was talking at once. "You mean she's not living with Dave? . . . When was it . . . why . . ."

"I don't know," the visitor had to answer to most of the questions. "I thought you would. It's queer you don't know anything about it."

"Not at all. We don't see Fidelia from one year's end to another, except by accident."

Then, through the chatter, Alice heard the Minneapolis girl coherently explain: "I just happened to call her up at her hotel a couple of weeks ago, not knowing a soul here; and the hotel told me that Mr. David Herrick was residing there but he thought Mrs. Herrick was not. I asked when she'd be back and he was most carefully vague. You know the manner when one knows more than he ought to tell. But he made it perfectly plain to me that he didn't expect her back at all."

A girl asked: "Then did you call Dave?"

"No; I never knew him. I just knew Fidelia slightly, years ago."

"That's all you know?"

It proved to be all and Alice quickly realized this and she left the table.

She wanted to be alone; she felt like singing; she felt lifted by the amazing relief at being able to think of David without having to picture him with Fidelia. No longer was Fidelia his wife; she was gone!

Alice did not let herself imagine that Fidelia had left him of her own free will and at her own choice;