"Think, think!" says she, putting up her hand to stay him from further speech. "All this is said in a moment of angry excitement. You have called me your friend—and truly. I am so far in touch with you that I can see you are very unhappy. You have had—forgive me if I probe you—but you have had some—some words with your wife?"
"Final words! I hope—I think."
"I do not, however. All this will blow over, and—come Cyril, face it! Are you really prepared to deliberately break the last link that holds you to her?"
"There is no link. She has cut herself adrift long since. She will be glad to be rid of me."
"And you—will you be glad to be rid of her?"
"It will be better," says he, shortly.
"And—the boy!"
"Don't let us go into it," says he, a little wildly.
"Oh! but we must—we must," says she. "The boy—you will——?"
"I shall leave him to her. It is all she has. I am nothing to her. I cannot leave her desolate."