"Yes?"
"Captain Ballantyne is not generous. He is just the sort of man not to divorce his wife."
Thresk raised his head. Clearly that possibility had no more occurred to him than it had to Jane Repton. He thought it over now.
"Just the sort of man," he agreed. "But we must take that risk—if she comes."
"The letter's not yet written," Mrs. Repton suggested.
"But it will be," he replied, and then he stood and confronted her. "Do you wish me not to write it?"
She avoided his eyes, she looked upon the floor, she began more than one sentence of evasion; but in the end she took both his hands in hers and said stoutly:
"No, I don't! Write! Write!"
"Thank you!"
He went to the door, and when he had reached it she called to him in a low voice.