"To this extent he does," I said. "If he's cited as co-respondent at the present time, he'll have to retire from public life. You and Dainton and I know that quite positively——"
"I don't much mind who retires from public life," he interrupted with a thin-lipped smile.
"But that man's quite capable of quarrelling with your wife—well, not to put too fine a point on it—to get rid of her, to avoid a scandal, to accept your terms. I believe he'd have accepted them that night. I confess I can't make up my own mind what to do...."
O'Rane's head drooped forward for a moment; then he raised it and faced us.
"I can't decide anything, either," he said. "My brain seems to have gone to pulp."
One glance at him was enough. I got up, and he did the same. The Daintons looked at each other and at me, refusing to move, as though they could force a decision by staying there. I shook my head and opened the door into the Cloisters.
"But—before we go——" began Lady Dainton, half-rising.
"The difficulty is that we don't know what we want," I pointed out.
Sir Roger became stammeringly urgent.
"We do know!" he cried. "We want to avoid a scandal, we want to keep our poor Sonia from—you know, all the talk and the papers——"