Helen answered pleasantly, looking into the curious grey eyes:
"Her name, on the stage, is Marie Cliff. I have known her a long while and I am very fond of her."
Stephanie, scarlet, winced under her faintly humourous smile.
"They are divorced, then," she managed to say.
"No."
"Why not?"
"She has never given him any cause," said Helen, slowly. "No woman, of her own knowledge, can truly say one word against her character; nor can any man. She merely revolted at the tyranny he attempted, in the guise of affection, of course. She refused to be deprived of the liberty to think and act as she chose. She rejected the worn-out conventions with which he attempted to chain her—this apostle of personal freedom. She cared for her profession—he married her when she was on the stage—and she resolutely insisted on her liberty to continue it.
"The result was a family smash—her return to the stage. And since then she has refused to accept a penny from him and has supported herself by her profession, and, sometimes, by posing for artists.
"And that is the real story of Harry Belter and Marie Cliff. So you can believe as much as you choose of his views on matrimony."
After a flushed and painful silence, Stephanie said: