I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. I—I hurt myself. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. ” “What case?” “A divorce—or something—I don’t know.
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