"You don't know," she moaned.
"What is it I don't know?"
"The truth—the real truth."
"You mean you still care for him?"
"I do care for him—I always shall—but that's not what I mean. I can't divorce Fred. I'm not—not his wife."
Jean sprang to her feet.
"You're not married!"
A spasm of anguish racked the shrinking form.
"Not—not yet."
Jean stood in rigid dismay, striving to read this enigma.