"The latter. The former's out of any man's power, I think."
"What would you do?"
"Emigrate to America."
"Out of the frying-pan into the fire! It's full of divorced people, isn't it?"
"Not the best Irish society." He laughed. "Well, you're chaffing me."
"Oh no, I'm not. I'm serious. I should like to see the experiment. Dick, if Godfrey does run away, as you kindly suggest, give me a wide berth! Oh, is it quite impossible that, if I tried, I might—make you miserable?"
"If you'll flirt with me after this fashion every time we meet, I'll not be miserable—I'll be very happy."
"Ah, but that's only the beginning! The beginning's always happy."
The sadness in her voice struck him. "You poor dear! You've had bad luck, and you've fallen among evil counsellors, in which term, heaven forgive me, I include my dear friends here at Shaylor's Patch."
"I'll try your principles another way. If you were Godfrey, would you leave me—now?"