“I am leaving on that train for New York,” he said, addressing her point-blank.
“But, George, this is only one day for me; and you have been away five weeks,” she exclaimed.
“Helen, come in here. I have something to tell you, and very few minutes to spare,” standing aside that she might precede him into the parlor.
She went in, sat in one of the mahogany chairs and regarded him with that long, winged look. The suppressed harshness of his voice had steadied her. She was calm. Women can withdraw to some quiet corner, sit perfectly still and watch you condemn yourself without a tremor, although the moment before they may have been distracted by every fear. I have sometimes thought it might be a form of spiritual catalepsy. In any case, it is a very fortunate seizure.
“I am returning to New York to-night,” Cutter informed her, still standing as if this departure was imminent. “I shall make my home there in the future.”
“Without me?” she asked, as if it was merely information she wanted.
“Without you,” he repeated, nodding his head for emphasis.
“For how long?”
“I have resigned as president of the bank here, disposed of all my interests. It is not my intention ever to come back to Shannon.” He did not look around to see how she had received this blow. He waited; silence, no movement, not a sound. “You can get a divorce. It will be easy,” he suggested.
“No,” she answered.