“He’s learned his lesson then. That’s to the good. But what had he to say to you? It’s for us to talk to him now. And it’s for him to act, not to talk.”
“He knows all that. Anything like the reasonableness of the man you never heard. I couldn’t believe my ears. He’s not going to do anything wrong—far from it. He wants to see you on Monday evening at half-past eight, please.”
“Does he?”
“Yes. He’s turned it all over in his mind, and seen his mistakes and regrets the sad past.”
“How do you know he does?”
“He said so, and, with all his faults, he’s quite as truthful as you are, Jordan. And to show it, he’s not going to do anything about damages. He feels that wouldn’t be right. He’s a very just man. He didn’t only say things I was glad to hear either. He told me some bitter truths. He said that I’d never be the right wife for you, Jordan.”
“And you let him?”
“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t going to hear that, of course. But he’s got a brain—more than we thought—and he said that to a man of your disposition—but if I’m going to vex you, I’ll leave that alone. Only don’t think he spoke unkindly. And when you consider what it meant to him my leaving him—”
“What did he say about my disposition?” interrupted Kellock. “I’ve a right to know that before I see him, Medora.”
“He said that you’ve got a mind far above women—that a wife to you would be less than what a wife is to an ordinary man. Because you’re all intellect and great thoughts for the welfare of everybody, so that the welfare of one, even your own wife, would be a small thing by comparison.”