She felt, somehow, as if he were giving her tit for tat.
"But you want me, don't you?" she asked.
"Do you want me?"
"You know I do. That's evident."
"Quite! And when do you want me?"
"You know we can arrange it all when I come back. Now I'm out of breath with you. I must get calm and clear."
"Quite! Get calm and clear!"
She was a little offended.
"But you trust me, don't you?" she said.
"Oh, absolutely!"
She heard the mockery in his tone.
"Tell me, then," she said flatly; "do you think it would be better if I don't go to Venice?"
"I'm sure it's better if you do go to Venice," he replied in the cool, slightly mocking voice.
"You know it's next Thursday?" she said.
Yes!"
She now began to muse. At last she said:
"And we shall know better where we are when I come back, shan't we?"
"Oh, surely!"
The curious gulf of silence between them!
"I've been to the lawyer about my divorce," he said, a little constrainedly.
She gave a slight shudder.
"Have you!" she said. "And what did he say?"
"He said I ought to have done it before; that may be a difficulty. But since I was in the army, he thinks it will go through all right. If only it doesn't bring her down on my head!"
"Will she have to know?"
"Yes! she is served with a notice: so is the man she lives with, the co-respondent."
"Isn't it hateful, all the performances! I suppose I'd have to go through it with Clifford."
There was a silence.
"And of course," he said, "I have to live an exemplary life for the next six or eight months. So if you go to Venice, there's temptation removed for a week or two, at least."
