Shane sipped his drink, waited.
Rigas finally looked up, spoke hesitantly: “Lorain — Lorain is going to get a divorce.”
Shane smiled, said: “That’s a break.”
Rigas nodded slowly. “Yes.” He spoke very slowly, deliberately: “Yes — that is a break for all of us.”
Shane leaned forward, put his elbows on the table, put one hand down slowly, palm up. He stared at Rigas and his face was hard, his eyes were very cold. He said: “You made that kind of a crack once before — remember?”
Rigas didn’t speak. He gazed wide-eyed, expressionlessly at Shane’s tie.
“Remember what happened?” Shane went on.
Rigas didn’t speak, or move.
Shane relaxed suddenly. He leaned back, glanced around, smiled faintly.
“I back this joint,” he said, “because I thought you might make it go. I don’t like you — never have — but I like Lorain, have liked her ever since we were kids together. I thought she was an awful chump when she married you and I told her so.”