"Can't you possibly divorce him?" Michael did not mean that he would marry her if she did; his mind was groping for some solution of the problem.
Millicent Mervill remained silent. "I could let him divorce me," she said at last.
"Don't!" Michael said intuitively. His voice amused the woman.
"I don't mean to," she said. "Why should any woman be divorced because she lives the same life as her husband does when he is apart from her?"
"You don't, and aren't going to," Michael said earnestly.
"I would, Michael, with you—only with you."
"I wish you could have been friends with Miss Lampton instead of hating her," he said sadly.
"Pouf!" Millicent Mervill cried. "Thanks for your Miss Lampton—I can do without her friendship! I prefer hating her."
"You are so perverse and foolish and . . ." Michael paused ". . . and difficult."
"No, loving, you mean, loving, Michael—that's all I'm difficult about."