“Oh, why didn’t you? Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t want to. I had told you we’d have this week together.”
“I’d have understood, Barty!”
“I know it; but, don’t you see, Jacko, you’re my wife, and you come first.”
She began to cry foolish tears of tenderness and pride.
“That was very rash and imprudent,” she began.
“I’m not prudent where you’re concerned,” said Barty, “and I’m sick of trying to be. If it hadn’t been that I had promised you not to tell any one, I’d have told Stafford then that I was going away with my wife.”
“What did you tell him, Barty?”
“Nothing.”
“You must have said something!”