"That was kind of you. But I'm not blind. And your kisses for him were warm on your lips when you greeted me."
She paled and drooped in her shame.
"What have you to say about that?" he went on tensely. "Do you think that I'm the kind to stand by idly and see a man take my wife's kisses?"
"No. You're not," she answered slowly. "You've already answered me." And then, with a painful effort, "What have you done with him?"
He sank into the armchair with a laugh. "With him? Nothing. He has gone. That's all."
"I don't believe you."
"That's your privilege. He has gone. He thought he had gone about far enough. And I'm almost ready to believe that you agree with him."
"No," she stammered, pleading against her own will, against her outraged pride. "There was a reason for what he did—an honorable reason. There must have been."
"The marks of it are not very clear to me. If you can see anything honorable in trying to steal the love of one's brother's wife——"
He paused, for he saw the danger signals flying in her eyes, and tried to shrug his anger off. "What's the use? I'm no fool. Whether he tried to win you or not, it's clear that neither of you was over-scrupulous about me."