The Fourth Side of the Triangle Read Online Free

“sensible” voice, “if he wanted it. But I’m sure the thought has never crossed his mind. No McKell has ever been divorced.”
    â€œThen why in God’s name did he tell you about this at all?” demanded Dane, exasperated.
    Again the faintly reproving look. “Please don’t take the name of the Lord in vain, darling.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mother. Why did he?”
    â€œYour father has never kept secrets from me.”
    He resisted an impulse to fling up his hands, and instead walked over to the big window to stare out at Park Avenue.
    Dane was not fooled by his mother’s assertion of faith. His father had kept plenty of secrets from her. If he really didn’t want a divorce, it was because he wasn’t in love with the woman. And this made Dane even angrier. It meant that it was a cheap passing affair, a meaningless tumble in bed, for the sake of which the old bull was ready to give infinite pain to his wife and face the possibility of a dirty little scandal in the sensational press if the story should leak out.
    Poor Mother! Dane thought. Up to now the nearest she’s come to scandal has been at fifth or sixth remove; now here it is just around the corner. A lady’s name appears in a newspaper three times in her life: when she is born, when she marries, and when she dies . To this quaint credo Lutetia subscribed completely. Didn’t she realize what she was facing? He turned from the window and said something to this effect.
    â€œI had naturally thought about that,” Lutetia said, nodding. Was there a flicker of something in the depths of those blue eyes? “And I mentioned it to your father. He assures me that there is no chance anyone will ever find out. He is apparently being very discreet. Taking special precautions of some sort, I believe.”
    I am awake, Dane said to himself, this is not a dream. They had discussed the cheating husband’s precautions against being found out, and let it go at that! It made his father almost as unbelievable as his mother. Or had Ash McKell become so accustomed to twisting her to his every whim that he now had nothing but contempt for her? Have I ever understood my mother and father? Dane wondered; and he was struck by the predicament of modern man, not merely unable to communicate but, oftener than not, ignorant of the fact.
    Talk about faithful Griselda! The heroine of the Clerk’s Tale was flaming with rebellion compared to his mother. She had devoted her life so single-mindedly to the happiness of her husband that she even went along with his betrayal of her as a woman! Or does that make me some sort of Buster Brown-haired prig? Dane thought. Considered as a feat of character, there was actually something sublime in Lutetia’s meekness. Maybe it’s I who haven’t grown up.
    â€œMother.” His tone was gentle. “Who is she? Do you know? Did he tell you?”
    Again she surprised him. This descendant of a hundred Knickerbockers smiled her sweet and self-effacing smile. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this, darling. I’m sorry I did. You have your own problems. By the way, have you settled the question that was bothering you? I mean in your third chapter? I’ve been worrying about that all day,” and on and on she went in this vein, the subject of her husband’s unfaithfulness laid aside, as if she had put by her needlework for a more urgent activity.
    I’ll have to find out myself who the woman is, Dane decided. It’s a cinch she’ll never tell me, even if she knows. Probably took some typical Victorian vow against ever allowing her lips to be “sullied” by the creature’s name.
    â€œNever mind my third chapter, Mother. I’ll say one thing more, and then I’ll stop talking about this: Do you want to come live with me? Under the circumstances?” Even in broaching the possibility Dane felt like one of Nature’s