“Marry—marry him!” she cried, suddenly perceiving the pitfall. “But I don’t want—you can force a divorce—but you can’t——” Her voice broke. “You can’t do that!”
Bowden, aghast before the prospect, cried:
“Absurd—no, no—absurd!”
“What!” said Garford, in a voice like thunder; “do you mean to say you don’t love him?”
She looked at her lover, bit her lip, started to speak, and all at once sat down, crossing her arms and looking at her husband as though she could murder him. She saw in a flash the completeness of his revenge, and she admired him that he could be so strong. Bowden, who did not seize the significance of the question as quickly as the woman, saw only the ridicule that would face him in a marriage with a woman whose intrigues had been common gossip. The fear of ridicule gave him a touch of courage which nothing else could have aroused. He broke out furiously:
“This is too ridiculous—and it’s none of your business!”
“Bowden, look out!” said Garford, beginning to grow hot. “Do you mean to tell me that when I eliminate myself you refuse to marry her?”
“I refuse,” he said doggedly; at which the woman swung about, mortally humiliated, and gave him a look of undying hatred.
“You refuse?” said Garford between his teeth.
“I do.”