As if any one could be sure of that! But, at any rate, if she were separated, she might be divorced--some time.

And then--_then_!--_she_ would be so obliging as to make a 'cushion,' and a home, for Phoebe Fenwick's husband! As to his not being grand enough for her, that was all nonsense.

When a man was as clever as John, he was anybodies equal--one saw that every day.
No, this creature would make people buy his pictures--she would push him on--and after a while-- With a morbid and devastating rapidity, a whole scheme, by which the woman before her might possess herself of John, unfolded itself in Phoebe's furious mind.
Yet, surely, it would only want one word from her--from her, his wife ?-- She felt herself trembling.

Her limbs began to sink under her.

She dropped upon a chair, sobbing.