"The Willard in Washington, then the Astor in New York."
"It may be I'll want to write him or something."
"I should think so!" cried Helen. "You and he write every day, don't you?"
"Not to each other," said Courtney dryly. "We never did establish the daily letter. That's one of the dreariest farces in married life. It belongs to the kind of people who think they're happy because they're too stupid or too bored to quarrel."
When she had eaten the tip end of a roll and drunk a little coffee, she went out on the veranda, sent Winchie to the lawn and asked Helen to sit with her at the western end where no one could hear or overhear. "You asked me when Richard was coming back," she began.
"It was simply a chance question," apologized Helen.
"He's not coming back."
"Not coming back!" echoed Helen. "You're going to move East?"
The emerald eyes met Helen's excited glance placidly. "We are going to get a divorce," she said.
Helen's big brown eyes opened wide. With lips ajar she stared at Courtney. Then she gave a little laugh that sounded as if the shock had unbalanced her mind and reduced her to imbecility. "A divorce," she murmured feebly.