“Helen,”—Inez spoke abruptly, after a moment’s silence—“I think I ought to leave Florence.”
“Don’t be absurd, Inez. You are worked up over this miserable affair, but you will forget all about it in the morning—when you get back to your work at the library.”
“No; this time I really mean what I say. I ought to have gone when my visit was up a fortnight ago; but you were so sweet in urging me to stay, and the work had developed with such increasing interest, that I have just stayed on and on.”
“I am sorry if you regret having stayed, dear. It certainly seemed to be for the best.”
“But see what it has brought on you, Helen.”
“I am not proud of my husband’s behavior, I admit; but you have even greater cause to feel annoyed than I.”
Inez seemed to be drifting hopelessly in her attempt to find the right thing to say.
“I have felt that I ought to go for a long time.”
“A long time?” Helen echoed. “Has Jack behaved as badly as this before?”
“Not that; it is the library work which makes me feel so.”