“Do you think,” asked Lola gently, “that she would share in your desire for me to try your new car?”
“I didn’t want you to know about her,” he answered, a queer expression of mingled shame and determination on his face. “It happened a long time ago. I was a fool, more even of a fool than usual, when I married her. I haven’t seen her in almost two years, and—and I’m never going to see her again.”
“Father was angry when he heard that you were married,” said Lola, looking at him calmly, and with no expression of anger in her face. “He thought that you had not been quite honest about it.”
“What did you think?” questioned Fenway.
“I was very much surprised and a little hurt. Father is going to ask you not to come here again. That is why I was glad to speak to you before he did.”
“Then you won’t let it quite queer me with you?” exclaimed the young man eagerly. “She’s bound to give me a chance to divorce her, sooner or later. I’m having her watched, every breath she draws. Even if your father won’t let me come here you’ll see me sometimes, won’t you?”
“No, Mr. Fenway, I shan’t see you again. Father is right about that, but I am glad you came here to-day. Surely we have been good friends enough for me to ask you, for your own sake, to be worthy of the better side that I know is in you. This girl is your wife; you yourself say that she has not done anything wrong. Wouldn’t it be better to——”
“Don’t talk about her,” said Dick, savagely.
“I’m afraid that we can’t talk at all, unless we talk about her. A man with as kind a heart as yours couldn’t have meant to wrong her, or me, or any other girl. I hoped that I was enough your friend to be able to ask you to go back to her, if you can, and if you can’t, to tell you that you ought to be honest with the persons who trust you! There! I’ve said it!” And she stood looking at him for a moment. Then, softening, she extended her hand.
“Good-bye!”