“I told you my reasons. I haven’t come now to discuss them.”
He crossed the room and caught up his hat.
“I wish I had not come at all,” he said, with a drop in his tone to sullenness. “I should have sent my solicitor. Your brazening it out made me lose my temper.”
Irene interposed herself between him and the door.
“We can’t part like this,” she said in a queer voice. “Tell me what your wishes are and I’ll try to obey them.”
Gerard reflected for a moment, checking a spiteful outburst. He had said his say. Further display of anger was futile. Also he knew something of Irene, and was aware that plain words would fall coldest upon her intelligence.
“After what has passed,” he said, “I can’t live in this house while you are here.”
“I will leave it to-day,” said Irene.
“Take your time. I don’t want to inconvenience you more than I can help.”
“You are very kind, Gerard,” said Irene, in bitter irony.