"Ah!" The exclamation was wrung from him through stiff lips. The color drained from his face as he leaned forward tensely, one hand gripping an arm of his chair like a vise. "G-go on!"
"That shot went home, did it?" asked Miss Ocky coolly, watching the effect of her words. "I've several more in the locker! We had quite a long talk together and he told me many things I didn't know. Interesting things—very!"
"What?" Simon's voice was hoarse. "He didn't tell you—he didn't dare tell you—" He stopped, a deadly fear in his eyes.
"Yes. He told me why he quarreled with his father. Why he left home. Why he has come back now, freed by his father's death. Shall I go on, Simon?"
He sank back in his chair, shaken in all his being. He could not speak until he moistened his lips with his tongue.
"Have you—told Lucy?"
"No. That is Leslie's right, I should say. No doubt he will use it. As far as I can see, there is only one way by which you can make a decent exit from the mess you're in."
"If—if you're suggesting—suicide—forget it!"
"Suicide? No! Why should I waste my breath proposing an act that requires courage? What I meant was—divorce."
"Divorce!"