“Time to give her up for the other woman?”
“If I want to.”
Madame Olenska leaned toward the fire and gazed into it with fixed eyes. Down the quiet street Archer heard the approaching trot of her horses.
“That is noble,” she said, with a slight break in her voice.
“Yes. But it’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? Because you don’t care for anyone else?”
“Because I don’t mean to marry anyone else.”
“Ah.” There was another long interval. At length she looked up at him and asked: “This other woman—does she love you?”
“Oh, there’s no other woman; I mean, the person that May was thinking of is—was never—”
“Then, why, after all, are you in such haste?”
“There’s your carriage,” said Archer.