“I know, Ruth. You’re like me, you can’t bear to let go. But I’ve learnt, and you’ve got to learn, that there are times when it’s the only way. I might find ways of whistling Derek back to you, but it would all come to the same in the end. He’s no good , Ruth; he’s rotten through and through. And mind you, I blame myself for ever letting you marry him. But you were kind of set on having him, and he seemed in earnest about turning over a new leaf⁠—and well, I’d crossed you once, honey⁠ ⁠…”

He did not look at her as he said the last words. Had he done so, he might have seen the swift colour that came up in her face.

“You did,” she said in a hard voice.

“I was too durned softhearted to do it a second time. I can’t tell you how I wish I had, though. You’ve led a poor kind of life for the last few years, Ruth.”