“Damned funny inspiration to fancy that I would tamely agree to your infidelities with another man.”
“But didn’t you understand?” she gasped.
“Perfectly. But I’m not the sort of man to share my wife with anybody—even with my dearest friend.”
The world was rocking. Her senses swam. She lost heed of surroundings. Found herself saying in a silly way:
“But it was all a lie, Gerard. I thought you knew.”
He looked at her for a moment or two and then thumped his fist on the dining-table. The shock upset a little epergne of flowers and the water flooded the dark-red table-cover.
“And I say it wasn’t a lie. There!”
“Gerard!”
The voice, pitched high, rang through the house. A cry of terror, incredulity, reproach. They remained looking at each other he doggedly, unmoved, with slightly crossed eyes; she in blank anguish of amazement.
“I don’t beat about the bush. I come straight to the point. You and Colman carried on behind my back. Do you suppose I was fool enough not to see it? I was only biding my time. It came sooner than I expected. A coup de théâtre. I thought something was wrong by the unnecessary state of excitement you have been in the last few weeks. It must have been exciting, with a vengeance! All I can say is, that I admire your pluck. How long has this been going on? Tell me.”