“We’ve never been divorced.”
Again there was an interval of silence.
“Would you go back to him, Jan?”
Jeannette stared out into the warm sunshine, and her rocker ceased its slow movement.
“I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “I’d like a home. I’m so tired of the office. There’s nothing to work for in the business any more. I’ve got as far as they’ll let me go; there’s no future for me.”
“Why don’t you write him?” Alice suggested, watching her sister’s serious face. “He may be as lonely as you are.”
“It’s fourteen years,” mused Jeannette. “We’ve both changed. He may be very different.”
“He may still be thinking of you and blaming himself for having treated you so unkindly.... Why don’t you write him and just say you’d be glad to know how he’s getting on?”
“I don’t know his address.”
“Well, that could be found out easily enough.”