Then she took her future happiness in her hands. Her husband could not live always and she had expected some day to come back; now she imperiled that prospect.
"I'm sorry that I cannot be here over Christmas," she said soberly.
"Not be here at Christmas! Why not?"
"He comes out the last of January."
Stephen looked up quickly. The absurdity of preparing for a month when a week would suffice did not at first occur to him. He had seen Jim Fetzer at the trial—he was a mad brute.
"You're not really going back to him!"
"Yes, I am."
"To live with him?"
"Who else has he?"