"The law demands the matter of six months' absence—perhaps a little longer. I 'll have this looked up and will notify you. Desertion is an ugly word; but, after all, it sounds better than cruel and abusive treatment."
"It's I who deserted," she said.
He waved the argument aside.
"Anyway, it's only a technicality. The point is that I must show the world that—that we did not mean what we said. So I 'll go on to England."
"And play golf," she added for him.
He nodded.
"I 'll probably put up a punk game. Never was much good at golf. But it will help get me back into the rut. Then I 'll sail about the first of August for New York and put a few weeks into camp."
"Then you'll go on to Cambridge."
"And hang around until after the Yale game."
"Then—"