To be the be-all and end-all of some one man's life was the least that Rita could conceive or concede as the worth of her personality, and so, as the years went on and Harold began to be unfaithful, first in moods, transports, then in deeds, her mood became dangerous.

She counted them up--a girl music pupil, then an art student, then the wife of a banker at whose house Harold played socially.

There followed strange, sullen moods on the part of Rita, visits home, groveling repentances on the part of Harold, tears, violent, passionate reunions, and then the same thing over again.

What would you?
Rita was not jealous of Harold any more; she had lost faith in his ability as a musician.

But she was disappointed that her charms were not sufficient to blind him to all others.