Camilla’s white face lifted from her hands.
“I ask nothing except that you leave me alone.”
For the first time the little man showed his teeth.
“At last you mention the point I came here 168 to arrange. Were you alone, rest assured I shouldn’t trouble you.”
“You mean––”
“I mean just this. I wouldn’t be human if I did what you ask––if I condoned what you’ve done and are still doing.” He was fairly started now, and words came crowding each other; reproachful, tempestuous.
“Didn’t you ever stop to think of the past––think what you’ve done, Eleanor?” He paused without giving her an opportunity to answer. “Let me tell you, then. You’ve broken every manner of faith between man and woman. If you believe in God, you’ve broken faith with Him as well. Don’t think for a moment I ever had respect for marriage as a divine institution, but I did have respect for you, and at your wish we conformed. You’re my wife now, by your own choosing. Don’t interrupt me, please. I repeat, God has no more to do with ceremonial marriage now than he had at the time of the Old Testament and polygamy. It’s a man-made bond, but an obligation nevertheless, and as such, at the foundation of all good faith between man and 169 woman. It’s this good faith you’ve broken.” A look of bitterness flashed over his face.
“Still, I could excuse this and release you at the asking, remaining your friend, your best friend as before; but to be thrown aside without even a ‘by your leave,’ and that for another man––” He hesitated and finished slowly:
“You know me well enough, Eleanor, to realize that I’m in earnest when I say that while I live the man has yet to be born who can take something of mine away from me.”
Camilla gestured passionately.