“Yes, that will clear my brain for the consideration of my defence. But still, I must maintain that this is essentially a legal inquisition. We have assembled primarily to consider the position which is created by this letter that Penfield has received.”
“Nothing of the kind,” said Margaret. “I asked you primarily that I might enjoy the pleasure of your society and secondly that you might enjoy the pleasure of one another’s—”
“And yours.”
“Thank you. But as to the letter, I don’t see that there is anything to discuss. We now know where Dan is, but that doesn’t seem to alter the situation.”
“I don’t agree with you in either respect,” said Rodney. “There seems to me a good deal to discuss; and our knowledge as to Dan’s whereabouts alters the situation to this extent: that we can get into touch with him if we want to—or, at least, Dr. Thorndyke can, I presume.”
“I am not so sure of that,” said Thorndyke. “But we could consider the possibility if the necessity should arise. Had you anything in your mind that would suggest such a necessity?”
“What I have in my mind,” replied Rodney, “is this; Purcell has left his wife for reasons known only to himself. He has never sent a word of excuse, apology or regret. Until this letter arrived, it was possible to suppose that he might be dead, or have lost his memory, or in some other way be incapable of communicating with his friends. Now we know that he is alive, that he has all his faculties—except the faculty of behaving like a decent and responsible man—and that he has gone away and is staying away of his own free will and choice. If there was ever any question as to his coming back, there is none now; and if there could ever have been any excuse or extenuation of his conduct there is now none. We see that, although he has never sent a message of any kind to his wife, yet, when the question of a sum of money arises, he writes to his solicitor with the greatest promptitude. That letter is a gross and callous insult to his wife.”
Thorndyke nodded. “That seems to be a fair statement of the position,” said he. “And I gather that you consider it possible to take some action?”
“My position is this,” said Rodney. “Purcell has deserted his wife. He has shaken off all his responsibilities as a husband. But he has left her with all the responsibilities and disabilities of a wife. He has taken to himself the privileges of a bachelor; but she remains a married woman. That is an intolerable position. My contention is that, since he has gone for good, the tow-rope ought to be cut. He should be set adrift finally and completely and she should be liberated.”
“I agree with you entirely and emphatically,” said Thorndyke. “A woman whose husband has left her, should, if she wishes it, revert to the status of a spinster.”