He took it so coolly that I could have kicked him.
“Of course that makes a difference. But it strikes me you’re using me some, Harper. Who’s the——”
“You know. Met her in the train.”
“Oh, the Nihilist. Sounds all right. Where?”
“In the prison.”
“Gee; that’ll make good copy.”
And that seemed its best recommendation in his eyes.
“You take it very lightly,” I said, with a smile.
“Well, you see, it’s your marriage, not mine.”
And with that we left the cell.