“No, but perhaps Molly does.”
The girl at the typewriter said:
“Oh no; please, Mr. Vigil, don't shut it for me.”
“Truth and honour?”
“Truth and honour,” replied both women. And all three for a moment sat looking at the sky. Then Mrs. Shortman said:
“You see, you can't get to the root of the evil—that husband of hers.”
Gregory turned.
“Ah,” he said, “that man! If she could only get rid of him! That ought to have been done long ago, before he drove her to drink like this. Why didn't she, Mrs. Shortman, why didn't she?”
Mrs. Shortman raised her eyes, which had such a peculiar spiritual glow.
“I don't suppose she had the money,” she said; “and she must have been such a nice woman then. A nice woman doesn't like to divorce—”