"I don't know what to say to you, Jim," she said tentatively.
"There's no need to say anything, Moira." I tried to speak as kindly as possible, but somehow I think I failed. "I happened to overhear you and your uncle yesterday, and I know just what you mean. But, Moira, I don't see how things can ever be the same again. It isn't as if it were something I could forget. It isn't. It goes right down to the fundamentals. If our love wouldn't stand the strain I put on it, it wasn't worth having. I hate to have to speak to you like this, but, when all's said and done, it's just as well to be frank first as last."
She nodded with tight-closed lips. I saw that she was trying her hardest to keep control of herself, and for a moment it was touch and go with me. I very seldom set my mind to anything that I don't carry through, and in this instance I had a very clear and definite plan outlined in my mind. So I just set my teeth and carried it off as if nothing really mattered very much.
"You heard us yesterday then?" she said at length. She spoke so slowly that she almost drawled her words.
I nodded.
"That's what you were doing then when I came out of the room?"
"Exactly," I said. I fancied it would only make matters worse if I explained everything in detail.
"I was wrong, Jim, and I apologise," she said. There was a little gleam of flame in her eyes that made me hang on her words. "I was wrong," she repeated. "I said yesterday that you had changed, but I don't think you have. You're just the same old Jim, a bit of a savage and just as primitive as ever."
"Thank you, Moira," I said. "I didn't expect it from you, but now I know what to look for."
"It is war then?" she said, with a little sparkle in her eyes.