“But, I want to marry her,” he blurted cruelly. “You must divorce me, Claire.”
The searing crimson drained from her face, leaving it the livid hue of marble.
“We are husband and wife, Alexis. No human being can undo that now.”
He sprang out of the chair and strode up and down the room.
“That toqué idea of yours! The idea is mediæval and has died out like a thousand other superstitions.”
“Not among the Roman Catholics, Alexis!” Her eyes begged for mercy.
“Oh, Claire, be reasonable. Be up to date. These aren’t the Dark Ages!”
“Oh, poor Alexis.” Claire covered her face with trembling fingers. “Is it as bad as all that? But you know I have already told you, you can have a separation any time you wish. I will go away, far away. You need never see me again!” Her voice ended with a sob.
Struck with remorse, he looked down upon her haggardly.
“What an utter brute I am. But don’t you see? It is partly for your sake, too. Suppose you should meet some one else who could really make you happy? Some one good, some one entirely different from me. Wouldn’t it be a tragedy if just because a few words had been mumbled over us by an unknown priest, you couldn’t marry this other man more suited to you in every way than I am?”