“I think, Lyndhurst, if we are not going to talk,” she said, “I shall see what news there is. Parker, please fetch me the morning paper.”
CHAPTER XIII
Three days later Major Ames was walking back home in the middle of the afternoon, returning from the house in which he had lately spent so considerable a portion of his time. But this was the last day on which he would go there, nor would he, except for this one time more, cross the threshold of his own house. The climax had come, and within an hour or two he and Millie were going to leave Riseborough together.
Now that their decision had been made, it seemed to him that it had been inevitable from the first. Ever since the summer, when, from some mixture of genuine liking and false gallantry, he had allowed himself to drift into relations with her, the force that drew and held him had steadily increased in strength, and to-day it had proved itself irresistible. The determining factor no doubt had been his quarrel with his wife; that gave the impulse that had been still lacking, the final push which upset the equilibrium of that which was tottering and ready to fall over.
The scene this afternoon had been both short and quiet, as such scenes are. Dr. Evans had been called up to town on business yesterday morning, returning possibly this evening but more probably to-morrow, and they had lunched alone. Afterwards Major Ames had again spoken of his wife.
“The situation is intolerable,” he had said. “I can’t stand it. If it wasn’t for you, Millie, I should go away.”
She had come close to him.
“I’m not very happy, either,” she said. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I could stand it.”
And then it was already inevitable.