“Don’t you think we’ve said enough for one evening, Hugh?” she queried. “We don’t appear to be getting anywhere, as you put it, and—and I might as well tell you,” and the emphasis of her utterance left no room for doubt, “I will never consent to a divorce! Treat me as you please—do anything you please—I shall always remain Mrs. Hugh Benton!”
She started to brush by him, but he caught roughly at her arm as she swept by. She stopped, startled at the fury in his face.
“But that is so thoroughly unreasonable,” he urged querulously. “You haven’t cared for me in years. You want to hold me now, just because someone else has come into my life.”
“Suppose I were to tell you that I do care for you. What then?” she asked slowly, contemplatively.
“I shouldn’t believe you! Oh, Marjorie, please listen to me. Doesn’t it seem foolish to wreck both of our lives? I intend being more than fair with you. I will settle three-quarters of my fortune upon you.”
Marjorie’s lips curved in a slow smile. “And what does Mrs. DeLacy say to that?” was her query.
“Why we haven’t even discussed such a thing.”
“Well, then, go to her,” she commanded, “tell her exactly just what you propose doing, and see if the fervor of her devotion remains the same.”
“And if it does—what then?”
“I will be reasonable enough to acknowledge that I have misjudged that—er—Mrs. DeLacy.”