"And that's why I never met your mother? That poor girl . . . that poor girl . . . ."
"But you're not going to throw me over?"
"Throw you over?" She looked at him, wide-eyed. "But you don't belong to me—and I don't belong to you. We've nothing to do with one another any more. We don't touch anywhere."
He tried to take her hand. She moved back.
"It's no good, Bunny. It's over. It's all over."
"No—don't—don't let me go like this. Don't——" Then he looked at her face.
"All right, then," he said. "You'll be sorry for this."
And he went.