She pointed without speaking to the paper flung in disgrace to the foot of the bed.
“Oh, well! you know, then. Everybody knows. She let it out last night. Women never can keep secrets.”
“Was she going to be your wife—secretly—for the rest of your life?” said Claudia sarcastically.
“Eh? Oh, well! I didn’t want people to know yet. She’s a clinking good sort, and don’t think”—with an expression like the puppy on the scent again—“that I regret marrying her. No, by Jove, I don’t. But she might have let me break the thing to—to everyone.”
“You can’t break things like that,” said Claudia sharply, “they break themselves. It’s like dropping an egg—it’s smash. Jack, I do believe this dog has got more sense than you have. I heard a rumour about this marriage last night, and I laughed at it. I had a certain amount of respect for your—social intelligence. Brains you never did have, but you always had good manners. I’m utterly disgusted with you, and I never want to see you—or your wife—again.”
“You haven’t seen her yet,” said Jack quickly. “So you can’t judge things.”
“I have no intention of seeing her,” said Claudia, her lips tightly compressed, her eyes flashing with anger. “Do you expect me to take The Girlie Girl to my bosom and swear I love her as a sister?”
“Look here, Claudia, say what you like about me—oh, yes! I know it was a fool thing to do, although I don’t regret it——” He passed his hand over his brow wearily, for his small brain, so little used, was unequalled to the strain. “I say again”—obstinately—“I don’t regret, and I’m awful fond of her—she’s a nut, I can’t tell you—but of course I can see how you and mother and everyone look at it. I never would have believed I could have done it—I’ve always jeered at other fellows who married beneath them—but I was just crazy about her. You’ll like her, Claudia,” he bent forward with pathetic eagerness, his hand again seeking his cigarette-case, “she’s not a bit like anyone else. All the men are in love with her, and she could have married most anyone she wanted.”
Claudia’s expression was so indicative of her feelings that he stopped. At that moment Johnson brought in the breakfast-tray. Jack looked at it with relief. It was something to do if only to eat and drink, and the cup of tea Polly had given him that morning had been “wash.”
He noticed that Claudia’s hand shook as she started to pour out the coffee, and at imminent danger to the tray and his own clothes, he caught hold of her hand.