"Anyhow, you left him."
"I couldn't help it. You were not wanted at the front and I was. I couldn't leave hundreds of wounded soldiers just for Colin."
"I had to. He was in an awful state. I've looked after him day and night; I've got him almost well now, and I think the least you can do is to keep quiet and let him alone."
"I shall do nothing of the sort. I shall divorce him as soon as the war's over."
"It isn't over yet. And I don't advise you to try. No decent barrister would touch your case, it's so rotten."
"Not half so rotten as you'll look when it's in all the papers."
"You can't frighten me that way."
"Can't I? I suppose you'll say you were looking, poor darling, if you do bring your silly old action. Only please don't do it till he's quite well, or he'll be ill again…I think that's tea going in. Will you go down?"
They went down. Tea was laid in the big bare hall. The small round oak table brought them close together. Anne waited on Queenie with every appearance of polite attention. Queenie ate and drank in long, fierce silences; for her hunger was even more imperious than her pride.
"I don't want to eat your food," she said at last. "I'm only doing it because I'm starving. I dined with Colin's mother last night. It was the first dinner I've eaten since I went to the war."