"Your husband. You see, he will always be John Rivière to me. That's how I knew him during these wonderful days at Arles and Nîmes." Her voice became dreamy with memories. "I met him first, you know, at the arena at Arles. We sat for hours in the flooding sunlight reconstructing our pictures of the past. The stone tiers were vivid orange in the sunlight and deep purple in the shadows. A deep, greyish purple. We sat apart, I longing for him to speak to me and exchange thoughts. But there was no one to introduce us. How stupid convention is! At sunset we climbed up to the topmost tier and stood together as though on an island tower in the midst of a sea of marshland. I ached to speak to him, and still we remained silent and apart. That night came the introduction I longed for. I was wandering about the dark, narrow lanes of Arles when a half-drunken peasant tried to attack me. I cried out for help, and John came to my defence with his strong arm and his clenched fist. There was no need for formal introduction after that. We found we were staying at the same hotel...."
Olive made no comment.
Elaine continued: "Nîmes is fragrant with its memories for me. The Jardin de la Fontaine, the Maison Carrée, the Druids' Tower, the dear Villa Clémentine! There was a little pebbly garden and a fountain by which we used to sit for lunch—there were two lazy old goldfish I used to feed with crumbs. Darby and Joan!... Those memories of Nîmes wash away the burn of the vitriol, now that you've been so kind and generous."
"I fail to understand," said Olive coldly. The interview was shaping itself very differently to what she had expected.
Elaine turned her bandaged head towards her in surprise. "But John tells me you've offered to release him!"
"Offered to release him! My dear Miss Verney, Clifford must have been saying pretty things to soothe you. I'm sorry to pour cold water on your dreams, but you'll have to learn the truth some time, and it's kinder to tell you now. Release him! My husband is not an employee to be handed over to somebody else at a moment's notice. There are such things as marriage laws ... and divorce laws."
"Aren't we talking at cross-purposes, Mrs Matheson? I quite understand all that. John tells me that you have promised to divorce him. That's very generous of you."
"You seem to ignore the point that a divorce suit involves a co-respondent."
"No; not at all. I wanted to see you in order to thank you; and then to arrange the details so that the matter can go through with as little trouble as possible. Of course, after your kindness, I shall let the suit go undefended."
Olive searched the bandaged face of her rival with merciless scrutiny. But the blinded girl seemed unconscious of that look of stabbing hatred and suspicion. She was apparently smiling happily—weaving day-dreams. Her hand went out to the vase of white lilac caressingly.