Still he did not believe her—he could not. He said sullenly at last:
"Well—go to your precious Virginia. I'll come there later when you've simmered down a bit. Then we can talk of things rationally." He stopped, and added with surly but genuine feeling: "I suppose you know I'm damnably sorry and all that.... I apologise ... humbly. I ... I ... acted like a cad to you, and that's a fact...."
He paused, as if waiting for her to say something. She said nothing. He blustered on:
".... But when you mentioned divorce to me in that cool way.... By God!... I did go crazy.... I'll swear I did.... And that little fiend had...."
"Don't, Morris...." she said again.
"But I tell you I was a lunatic for the moment...."
"No, Morris ... it's no use ... it's no use...."
"And that cursed Italian chap!..."
Sophy's eyes grew hard.
"The Marchese Amaldi is an old and dear friend of mine," she said; "please don't vilify him to me."