Past five o'clock.
'I think I must go,' she said timidly.
'But what are our arrangements?
Do you still intend--' 'Intend?
Isn't it for you to decide ?' There was a coldness in the words of both, partly the result of the great shock they had undergone, in part due to their impatience with each other.
'Darling--do what I proposed at first.

Stay for a few days, until I am settled at Bordeaux.' 'Stay with my--my husband ?' She used the word purposely, significantly, to see how it would affect him.

The bitterness of her growing disillusion allowed her to think and speak as if no ardent feeling were concerned.
'For both our sakes, dearest, dearest love! A few days longer, until I have written to you, and told you exactly what to do.

The journey won't be very difficult for you; and think how much better, dear Monica, if we can escape discovery, and live for each other without any shame or fear to disturb us.

You will be my own dear true wife.