She laughed without mirth. "If you hadn't wanted to keep me in the dark."
"No; if I hadn't had responsibilities—"
"Responsibilities! Do you call that"—her glance indicated the woman, whose misty stare went from the one to the other in a vain effort to follow what they were saying—"do you call that a responsibility?"
"I'm afraid I do, Edith."
"And what about—me?"
"Hasn't a man more responsibilities than one?"
"A married man hasn't more wives than one."
"A married man has to take his life as his life has formed itself. He was an unmarried man first."
"Which means, I suppose, that the ties he formed when he was an unmarried man—"
"May bind him still—if they're of a certain kind."