"We'll leave that matter alone,"
he said. "I haven't the slightest intention of discussing it.
To-morrow morning I shall see about letting my rooms. According to
the terms of the settlement I drew out last night, you retain
these--rent free--to the expiration of the lease. That's three years.
But you mayn't sub-let."
Sub-let! He could talk about sub-letting! The irony of it dragged
a laugh through her lips.
"Do you think I shall want to sub-let?" she said stridently. "Do you
think I shall care what I do, where I live, how I live?"
"You'll be a fool if you don't," he remarked.
The hysterical note in her voice had jarred through him. Once before
in his life he had had a woman screaming about his ears. There was
no desire in his mind to relish the enjoyment of it again. He turned
slowly towards the door. This was the worst of women. A man's
relations with them were bound to end something after this fashion.
In common with most men, he shared a hatred of that termination of
all intimacies which one calls a scene.
But, really, he had no cause for apprehension. The tears now were
streaming down her face, sobs were choking her, convulsive
shudderings that shook her body in a merciless grip.
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