"Why should I lie and pretend?" whispered the wife fiercely. "Why shouldn't I want to be free of him? You know how it is between us. I'm a marriage-slave to a man who has no thought of anything but himself." She gulped and writhed in an access of strong physical nausea.
Pat's strong hands fell upon her wrists. "Stop, Dee! You mustn't let yourself go that way. Tell me how it happened."
"I don't know anything about it. The Marburys' car struck him, down near the station."
"Poor Jimmie!"
"Poor Jimmie? Poor me! Shall I tell you what happened last week?"
"No. Not now, Dee. You're——"
"I'm all right, I tell you. And I'm going to tell you. We fought it out to a finish. He wants to have children. Children, after the agreement he broke! Well, I couldn't tell him the whole reason why I wouldn't; but I told him this, and it's true, too, as far as it goes. I said to him: 'Jim, if you'd ever had one single thought for anybody in your life but yourself I might feel different. But if there's anything in heredity I'd as soon hand down idiocy to a child as your strain. Now, if you want a separation, get it.' What do you think he said? 'Oh, no, my dear. That's heroics. I'm just about the same as other men. You don't get off so easily. As for selfishness, you didn't marry me in any spirit of altruism.'"
"He had you there, Dee."
"Yes; he had me there. Then he said, 'I'm going to hold you until you make good or break away yourself.'"
"'Then I'll break,' I said. 'I'll leave you.' He only smiled. 'You won't find it too easy,' he said. I could have killed him."