“That she never shall. That’s done! It would make me sick to see her.”

“You will see her. And you’re not even legally separated, are you?”

“No.”

“Ah well, then she’ll come back, and you’ll have to take her in.”

He gazed at Connie fixedly. Then he gave the queer toss of his head.

“You may be right. I was a fool ever to come back here. But I felt stranded, and had to go somewhere. A man’s a poor bit of a wastrel, blown about. But you’re right. I’ll get a divorce and get clear. I hate those things like death, officials and courts and judges. But I’ve got to get through with it. I’ll get a divorce.”

And she saw his jaw set. Inwardly she exulted.

“I think I will have a cup of tea now,” she said.