“You would even say that you knew that I’ve been married some weeks, wouldn’t you?”
“I should, sir.”
“Good––you may go.”
“Thank you, sir, and good-night.”
“Good-night,” said Micky.
And now, what was to be done now?
When he left this room three hours ago it had been with the determination to put the past behind him for ever, and what had he done? Only walked more deeply into his quixotism and seriously compromised the woman he loved.
He had said that she was his wife. It gave him a little thrill to remember that a dozen of his acquaintances had heard him say it, and were probably even now spreading the story of his marriage far and wide.
He paced up and down the room. He had failed all round; even love and desperate desire had not been able to help him.