"Just like him. I thought he was going to marry you?"
"He wouldn't wait for me. He couldn't. He thought you were never going to get your divorce. He had to settle down so as to get on in his business. He wanted a Frenchwoman who could help him, and he daren't so much as look at me—after, for fear she'd divorce him."
"I told you he was a swine."
"He wasn't. It wasn't his fault. He'd have married me two years ago if you could have divorced me then."
Her mouth was loose to the passage of her sigh, as if for a moment she felt a sensuous pleasure in her own self-pity. She did not see how his mouth tightened to the torture as she turned the screw.
She went on. "Lenny was all right. He was good to me as long as I was with him. He wouldn't have turned me into the street to starve."
"Who has turned you into the street?" He could not disguise his exasperation.
Then he remembered. "Oh—your father."
"I don't mean Father. I mean the other one."
"There was another one? And you expect me to take you back?"