“I can’t stand any longer the thought that you are my husband. I must be free of that. I am unclean and I am taking a bath.”
Duffield smiled.
“The bath, my dear, you took some years ago. Why repeat it in public?”
She winced.
“I have no wish to resume relations with you, Laura. All I object to is this exhibition.”
“Unfortunately, it has to be. I relish it no more than you. I deserve it less. Our marriage was public. My cleaning my hands of you must be public also. If you were so considerate and scrupulous as you pretended, you could save us much by not defending the suit.”
“I may be considerate. But if I am hit, I hit back. I have not objected to your virtual quarantine of me, these past ten years. I have behaved and kept up front. I have shown in at your parties and paid your debts when they grew troublesome. The only time, my dear, ever to pay a debt. But if you insist on placarding my love-affairs, I’ll fight.”
“Very well. Go and do your worst. I shall of course get the dirty end of this. I have, all my life. But don’t expect I’ll make peace with you.”
“Laura, you are a fool.” Duffield stood up.
“I know I am. I am sort of glad, that you think I am a fool. It puts me miles out of reach of your kind of wisdom. I know I am a fool. You had your share in making me one. But even you shan’t succeed in making me a coward.”