"Not at all—though that is a minor matter, and wouldn't hurt you in the least if you were to admit it; under the circumstances, you are entitled to break over. However, that is neither here nor there; she can procure a divorce for non-support—if you don't contest it."
"Yes—if I don't contest it!" Lorraine sneered. "One might fancy that you contemplated marrying her yourself, Devereux."
"I don't contemplate marrying her, and you know it," said Devereux imperturbably; "though for my part, I should consider myself very fortunate indeed to win her. But someone else probably will want to marry her, and she may want to marry him—and you will be only the dog in the manger, Lorraine, only the dog in the manger—with the sympathy of not one soul in all the world."
"I don't care for sympathy!" Lorraine exclaimed—"and I shouldn't get it if I did—from you men. You always favor a pretty woman. You all have been against me from the first. You think it was all my fault Amherst had a chance to ingratiate himself."
"Wasn't it?" Devereux asked.
Lorraine stopped and stared.
"They went off together, didn't they—was that my doing?" he demanded.
"Not directly—but indi——"
"Am I responsible for what a low-down dog like Amherst does? Hadn't I a right to presume he wouldn't do it? Hadn't I a right to trust my own wife? Is a husband to be suspicious and suspecting? Isn't he justified in presuming innocence rather than guilt?"