He stared at her incredulously.
"Father said that I could divorce you, and I suppose it's true. It could be arranged somehow."
"Your father! But this is a matter that concerns only our two selves. Besides, Lily, you don't know what you're saying. Divorce is not a thing to be spoken of like that—lightly. It's a frightful thing to think of."
For a moment the old inclination to accept the values of another beset her. Then she spoke steadily.
"Divorce would set us free to begin again. You've given me adequate grounds, Nicholas, after all. Tell me honestly—would a divorce, undefended—I suppose you wouldn't defend the case?—would it hurt your career?"
Nicholas stood up again and looked down at her very grimly.
"It would do you quite as much harm as it would me, my dear. A woman who's been through the Divorce Court, even if she's perfectly innocent, is looked upon askance by many people. But I don't believe you know what you're talking about. It's an insane suggestion. It could be done, no doubt with a certain amount of collusion, but you've no idea of all that it would entail."
"Perhaps," Lily said slowly, "perhaps, Nicholas, I think that it would be worth while, if it would give us both a chance of beginning again."
Nicholas looked at her with eyes that, from incredulous, became slowly agonized.
"We can," he said, "I suppose it would be possible. But I—I thought you loved me."