"About last night," he began, and stopped.
"Yes?" said Beatrice encouragingly.
"I thought at first I wouldn't mention it, and then I decided it would be rather cowardly not to ... I want to say that—"
"That what?"
"That I have no objections."
"To what?" Her bewilderment was not feigned.
"To last night! I don't want you to think I'm jealous, or unsympathetic, or anything like that.... You are at liberty to do what you please—to get pleasure where you can find it. I understand."
"You don't understand at all!" Her manner was still one of bewilderment, though possibly other feelings were beginning to enter.
"I understand, and shall understand in the future. I shan't mention the matter again. Only one thing more—whenever our—our bargain interferes too much, you can end it. I shan't offer any opposition."
She sat frozen in her chair, making no sign that she had understood, so he explained in an almost gentle tone of voice: "I mean you can divorce me, you know."