Priestly in the divorce
courts--"
Sally struggled to her feet.
"Mrs. Priestly?"
"Yes; what about her? Do you know her?"
"What do you know about her?" she asked.
"I'm counsel for her husband."
"You're cross-examining her?"
Straight through her mind leapt that scene in the divorce court when
she had witnessed his attack upon the miserable woman whom the law
had placed out for his feet to trample on.
"Yes," he replied. "What _do_ you know about her?"
She sank back into her chair saying nothing.
"You won't say?"
She shook her head.
"Well, it's of not much interest to me. I shouldn't have you
subpoenaed, if you did know anything. You know the case, at any rate.
Well, I don't want that sort of affair in my life; so you never need
mention this matter again. I'll come and see you sometimes, if you
want me to; but only on condition that we have none of this. When
I'm married, of course, then it'll have to stop."
Sally raised her head. Her eyes were burning--her lips were drawn
to a thin colourless line.
"You--who never were going to marry!" she shouted. "You who didn't
believe in it--who wouldn't fetter yourself with it! Oh, go! Go!"
CHAPTER VI
That same evening there might have been seen two men seated opposite
to each other at a small table in the corner of the grill-room of
a well-known restaurant.
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