Port Scatho said:
"I know; I know . . . Lady Port Scatho and I agreed—even without knowing what you have just told me—that the poor things almost exaggerated it. . . . He slept, of course, at Jedburgh? . . ."
Tietjens said:
"Yes! They almost exaggerated it. . . . I had to be called in to take Mrs. Duchemin home. . . . It caused, apparently, misunderstandings. . . ."
Port Scatho—full of enthusiasm at the thought that at least two unhappy victims of the hateful divorce laws had, with decency and circumspectness, found the haven of their desires—burst out:
"By God, Tietjens, if I ever hear a man say a word against you. . . . Your splendid championship of your friend. . . . Your . . . your unswerving devotion . . ."
Tietjens said:
"Wait a minute, Port Scatho, will you?" He was unbottoning the flap of his breast pocket.
"A man who can act so splendidly in one instance," Port Scatho said. . . . "And your going to France. . . . If any one . . . if any one . . . dares . . ."
At the sight of a vellum-cornered, green-edged book in Tietjens' hand Sylvia suddenly stood up; as Tietjens took from an inner flap a cheque that had lost its freshness she made three great strides over the carpet to him.