He did not answer, but he looked gravely at her for a moment, and she was ashamed.
"Why don't you divorce me if you think me so wicked?"
"For the sake of the children," he said, with a slight change of voice.
Teddy, the eldest, had been born in this room. Did either remember that gray morning six years ago?
There was a silence that might be felt.
"Who drew the short lighter?" she whispered, before she knew that she had spoken.
"I am not here to answer questions," he replied. "And I have asked none. Neither, you will observe, have I blamed you. But I desire that you will never again allude to this subject, and that you will keep in mind that I do not intend to discuss it with you."
He laid down the Imitation and moved towards his own room.
With a sudden movement she flung herself upon her knees before him and caught his arm. The attitude suggested an amateur.
"Which drew the short lighter?" she gasped, her small upturned face white and convulsed.