“Or a hundred other men,” Shep replied with a shrug. “You must be tired, Connie—you’d better go to bed.”
“I don’t believe we’ve quite finished, Shep. I can’t leave you like this! Your father is a beast! A low, foul beast!”
“I suppose he is,” he said indifferently.
“Is that all you have to say to me—Shep?”
She regarded him with growing terror in her eyes. He had said he believed her, but it was in a tone of unbelief.
“I suppose a wife has a right to the protection of her husband,” she said challengingly.
“You heard what I said to father, didn’t you? I told him it was a lie. I’ll never enter his house again. That ought to satisfy you,” he said with an air of dismissing the matter finally.
“And this is all you have to say, Shep?”
“It’s enough, isn’t it? I don’t care to discuss the matter further.”
“Then this is the end—is that what you mean?”