“Going? Where? At this hour?”
“Well, you see—that lecture to-morrow. It’s to be ‘Marriage from the Man’s Point of View.’ I can’t, with any dignity, any decency, say what I wish to say—be really honest—in the character of a domestic man. It would be a farce. I must be able to say that I’m a free man, do you see?”
“Yes,” she said, wiping her eyes. “But—does that mean it’s got to begin now?”
“What?”
“The—living apart?”
“I’m afraid so. I thought I’d go to a hotel for the night, and send after my things in the morning.”
“Oh, no, Andy, please! I couldn’t explain—to the servants. No! That’s the only thing I ask you. Let me be the one to go. You can say it’s a telegram from mother.”
“Nonsense, my dear girl! I won’t hear of it! Turning you out of the house at this hour of the night! Let me go!”
“No, Andrew, I’d rather; really I would! I’d like to go. I—need a change. If you’ll call a taxi while I pack my bag—”
“You’re quite sure?” he asked anxiously, and again she assured him that she really wished to go.