"I could marry Innisbrae or any one of several others! But I do not care to; I am comfortable. And that is where you have made your mistake. I do not desire a divorce! But,"—she lifted her narrow eyes—"if you force me to a separation I shall not shrink from it. And I shall name that woman."
"Then—what is it you want?" he asked with a sinking heart.
"Not a divorce; not even a separation; merely respectability. I wish you to give up business in New York and present yourself in England at decent intervals of—say once every year. What you do in the interludes is of no interest to me. As long as you do not establish a business and a residence anywhere I don't care what you do. You may come back and live with this woman if you choose."
After a silence he said: "Is that what you propose?"
"It is."
"And you came over here to collect sufficient evidence to force me?"
"I had no other choice."
He nodded: "By your own confession, then, you believe either in her chastity and my sense of honour, or that, even guilty, I care so much for her that any threat against her happiness can effectually coerce me."
"Your language is becoming a trifle involved."