‘I think that it would not matter one jot to you whether he were glad or sorry. He would make a row, I suppose, but you would be safe on the other side of the Channel.’
‘He would get a divorce,’ said La Chicot. ‘Your English law breaks a marriage as easily as it makes one. And then he would marry that other woman.’
‘What other woman?’
‘I don’t know—but there is another. He owned as much the last time we quarrelled.’
‘A divorce would make you a great lady. Joseph Lemuel would marry you. The man is your slave; you could twist him round your little finger. And then, instead of your little box at Passy, you might have a mansion in the Champs Elysées, among the ambassadors. You would go to the races in a four-in-hand. You might be the most fashionable woman in Paris.’
‘And I began life washing dirty linen in the river at Auray, among a lot of termagants who hated me because I was young and handsome. I had not much pleasure in those days, my friend.’
‘Your Parisian life would be a change. You must be very tired of London.’
‘Tired! But I detest it prettily, your city of narrow streets and dismal Sundays.’
‘And you must have had enough dancing.’
‘I begin to be tired of it. Since my accident I have not the old spirit.’