"Ah ... don't put it that way!..."
"What other way can I put it? You did tell me it was Belinda, didn't you?"
"Yes. And a more...."
"Wait, Morris. I want to ask you something. Whether you answer it or not, I must ask it. It's this: You had been with Belinda—before you came to me. Had you been together—like lovers?"
He dropped his face into his two hands. She could see the hot flush on it between his fingers.
"Oh ... but you're hard ..." he groaned.
Now Sophy had her moment of bitterness.
"I know," she said, "that the perfect wife is supposed to be motherly when her husband's fancy strays—and lover-like when it turns home again. But I am not perfect in any way. And I don't think I'm hard when I ask for truth between us."
Loring dropped his hands and uncovered eyes ablaze with a helpless fury of regret and vindictiveness.
"I wish to God the girl had never been born!" he cried.