"Yes, it's a fine poem, with that uniqueness in occasional lines, that occasional touch of power, that marks your worst effusions, Mr. Gregory!... but," paused he, "we do not allow the Woman Taken in Adultery in the columns of the Independent."
"Well," I shot back, pleased with myself at the retort I was making, "well, I'm mighty glad Christ didn't keep her out of the pages of the New Testament, Dr. Ward!"
He barely smiled. He fixed me with a steadfast look of concern.
"Are you still with—with Mrs. Baxter?"
"Yes—since you ask it."
"The sooner you put that woman out of your life the better for you."
"Dr. Ward—one moment!... understand that no woman I love can be spoken of as 'that woman' in my presence—if you were not an old man!—" I faltered, choking with resentment.
"Now, now, my dear boy," he replied very gently, "I am older than you say ... I am a very, very old man ... and I know life—"
"But do you know the woman you speak of?"
"I have met Mrs. Baxter casually with her husband several times." He stopped short. He paused, gave a gesture of acquiescence.