Her tone is as steady and as matter-of-fact as his own; they sit at the table facing each other.
"We must begin by accepting the fact—"
"That you have had no breakfast as yet. Am I right?"
"Breakfast?" he repeats absently. "Yes, no—I—I don't remember. No; now that I come to think, I have had none as yet."
"Will you allow me to ring and order some for you now?"
"Thank you, you are very kind."
When the servant has retired, he resumes quietly—
"By accepting the fact boldly and clearly that we have made a mistake, you and I, in casting our lots together—You follow me?"
She nods, without speaking.
"But, having done so, it is our duty to look our position steadily, cheerfully, even, if possible, hopefully in the face, and without useless repining or mutual recrimination. We are husband and wife still, in name at least, in the eyes of the law and the world at large, and nothing but death can free us from that self-imposed bondage."