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 married, and mother need never know any more than just that much."

"It would be nice," said Mr. Eaton, "if your poor mother didn't even have to know about the divorce. She puts all the moralities into pigeonholes, you know . . . Have you heard about Mark?"

"What about him? No, sir, I haven't."

"I thought some member of the family would have written. I hadn't the heart."

"I heard that his wife made him a lot of trouble."

"He shot a man because of her."

"No!" exclaimed Edward, his face lighting with anxiety and interest.

"Mark appears to stand very well in his community and the case did not get into the courts. It appears also that Mark is cool-headed and that he did not shoot to kill . . . The interloper was so wounded that for some weeks—well, he had to eat off the mantlepiece, and the neighbors have poked so much fun at him that he has been obliged to leave town. Mark's wife is, I am afraid, one of those wives who really ought to be divorced. But because of the baby Mark will not divorce her. He has sold his interests, at a great sacrifice, I am afraid, and has moved farther West—somewhere where the story will not be known. She