“When we were seated I asked him—as I would have asked my brother—whether my husband had really, finally abandoned me.
He looked searchingly into my face, as if to see how I would be likely to take his answer.
Finding in my expression no very distressing anxiety, but simply a wish to know the truth, he replied:
“‘Saviola has disappointed us all. If I were not speaking to you I should say that he is scarcely worthy of thought, still less of regret.’
“‘But—are you sure? Has he really and finally abandoned me?’ I repeated.
“‘He has.’
“‘You are sure of this?’
“‘I am.’
His words and tones were grave, sweet and compassionate.
“‘Where is he now?’ I next inquired.