"Divorce!"
"Oh, very well, just as you like. Of course our marriage ceases to be such from now on...."
So unprepared, so at peace with herself and the world had she been that it was only now that she fully comprehended his meaning. James was accusing her, making the great accusation ... James thought that she.... Of course, not being the kind of a woman who dissolves in tears at that accusation, her first dominant emotion was one of anger; an anger sharper than any she had ever felt; an anger she would have thought to be impossible to her, after all these months of lassitude, all these years of chastening. She rose from her chair and made a step toward the door; her impulse being to walk out of the room, out of the house, out of James' life, without a word. Not a word of self-defense; some charges are too vile to merit reply!
Then commonsense flared up, conquering anger and pride. No, she must not give way to her pride; she must act like a sensible being. After all, James was her husband, he had some right to accuse if he thought proper; the falseness of his accusation did not take away his right of explanation; he should be made to see.
Slowly she turned and went back to her place. She sat down squarely facing James with both hands on the table in front of her, and prepared to talk like a lawyer presenting a case. James was watching her quietly, interested, perhaps ever so slightly amused, but not in the least moved.
"James, as I understand it, you think that I—that Tommy and I...."
"Yes?"
"Well, you've made a great mistake, that's all. You've condemned me without a hearing. You've assumed that I was guilty—"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, let's not talk about being guilty or innocent or wronging each other or being faithful to each other! Those things have no meaning for us. I'm not blaming you—I've tried to explain that to the best of my ability!"
"Very well, then, let us say you have made a mistake in facts."