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Updated: May 2, 2025
He never dreamed that the dictagraph had brought her with him when he learned of Zada's intensely interesting condition, and her exceedingly onerous demands. He did not dare ask Charity for a divorce in order that he might legitimize this byblow of his. He could imagine only that she would use the information for some ruinous vengeance. So he dallied with his fate in dismal irresolution.
Charity had run that gantlet and was ready to run it again on another errand of mercy, but first she must make sure that Zada's baby should not enter the world before its mother entered wedlock. After McNiven had proffered her a chair and she had exclaimed upon the grandeur of the harborscape, she began: "Sandy, I've come to see you about " "One moment!" McNiven broke in.
She remembered the detectives she had engaged and the superabundant evidence they had furnished her. She told McNiven about it and he was delighted till she reminded him that she had promised not to make use of Zada's name. McNiven told her that she had no other recourse, and advised her to see her husband. She said that it was hopeless and she expressed a bitter opinion of the law.
I'll think it over for a few months. It's bad weather for divorces now, anyway." Cheever's heart churned in his breast. He knew that Zada could not afford to wait. He should have married her long ago, and there was no time to spare now. Charity's indifference frightened him. He did not dream that through the dictagraph Charity had shared with him Zada's annunciation of her approaching motherhood.
The voices of Zada and her maid stopped jangling, and she heard the most familiar of all voices asking: "What's the row to-day?" There was an extra metal in the timbre and it had the effect of an old phonographic record, but there was no questioning whose voice it was. Zada's voice became audibly low in answer. "She is such a fool she drives me crazy."
In blissless ignorance of it, Zada had been inspired to set a firm of sleuths on Charity's trail. She wanted to be able to convince Cheever that Charity was intrigued with Dyckman. The operators who kept Mrs. Charity Coe Cheever under espionage had the most stupid things to report to Zada. To Zada's disgust, Mrs. Cheever never called upon Jim Dyckman, and he never called on her.
The improvement in Zada's mind and heart was, curiously, the most dangerous thing in the world for Cheever. If she had stayed noisy and promiscuous and bad, he would have tired of her. But she was growing soft and homey, gentle as ivy, and as hard to tear away or to want to tear away.
That might mean either of two things: there are the quarrels that enemies maintain, and those that devoted lovers wage. The latter sort are perhaps the bitterer, the less polite. Charity could not learn what had started the wrangle between those two. Slowly it died away. Zada's cries turned to sobs, and her tirade to sobs. "You don't love me. Go back to her. You love her still."
She would rather be named herself. She says everybody knows about our er relations, anyway; and she doesn't care if they do." Zada's character and her career had rendered her as contemptuous of public disapproval as any zealot of a loftier cause than love. There was a kind of barbaric insolence in her passion that Charity could not help admiring a little.
Zada saw his big fingers gathering convening, as it were, into a fist like a mace, and she was terrified for her man. She scrambled to her feet and caught Dyckman in the hall. "What are you going to do to Mr. Cheever?" Dyckman answered in the ironic slang, "I'm not going to do a thing to him." Zada's terror increased. "What harm has he ever done to you?" "I didn't say he had done me any harm."
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