"Release myself from you?" he repeated. "That's easier said than done. Did you mean to send me to the Colonies—was that your idea?"
His smile was hard to bear. But she went on, choking, yet determined.
"That seems to be the only way—in English law. Why shouldn't you take it? The voyage, the new climate, would probably set you up again. You need only be away a short time."
He looked at her in silence a moment, fingering his cigarette.
"Thank you," he said at last, "thank you. And I suppose you offered us money? You told Herbert you would pay all expenses? Oh, don't be angry! I didn't mean anything uncivil. But," he raised himself with energy from his lounging position, "at the same time, perhaps you ought to know that I would sooner die a thousand times over than take a single silver sixpence that belonged to you!"
Their eyes met, his quite calm, hers sparkling with resentment and pain.
"Of course I can't argue with you if you meet me in that tone," she said passionately. "But I should have thought——"
"Besides," he interrupted her, "you say it is the only way. You are quite mistaken. It is not the only way. As far as freeing me goes, you could divorce me to-morrow—here—if you liked. I have been unfaithful to you. A strange way of putting it—at the present moment—between you and me! But that's how it would appear in the English courts. And as to the 'cruelty'—that wouldn't give you any trouble!"
Daphne had flushed deeply. It was only by a great effort that she maintained her composure. Her eyes avoided him.
"Mrs. Fairmile?" she said in a low voice.