He turned and twisted in flesh and spirit, trying to persuade Charity to proceed immediately for a divorce, but in vain.
Finally she ceased to laugh at him and demanded, sternly, “Why don't you tell me the truth for once?”
He stared at her, and after a crisis of hesitation broke and informed her of what she already knew. Now that he was at her feet, Charity felt only pity for him, and even for Zada. She was sorrier for them than for herself.
So she said: “All right, old man; let's divorce us. Will you or shall I?”
“You'd better, of course; but you must not mention poor Zada.”
“Oh, of course not!”
A brief and friendly discussion of ways and means followed, and then Charity turned to go, saying:
“Well, I'll let you know when you're free. Are there any other little chores I can do for you?”
“No, thanks. You're one damned good sport, and I'm infernally sorry I—”
“Let's not begin on sorries. Good night!”