"Because," she went on, as she took a chair near the table where I was
writing, "I wanted to tell you that I have decided to go to Europe, and
take the children."
"To Europe!" I exclaimed. The significance of the announcement failed at
once to register in my brain, but I was aware of a shock.
"Yes."
"When?" I asked.
"Right away. The end of this month."
"For the summer?"
"I haven't decided how long I shall stay."
I stared at her in bewilderment. In contrast to the agitation I felt
rising within me, she was extraordinarily calm, unbelievably so.
"But where do you intend to go in Europe?"
"I shall go to London for a month or so, and after that to some quiet
place in France, probably at the sea, where the children can learn French
and German. After that, I have no plans."
"But--you talk as if you might stay indefinitely."
"I haven't decided," she repeated.
"But why--why are you doing this?"
I would have recalled the words as soon as I had spoken them. There was
the slightest unsteadiness in her voice as she replied:--"Is it necessary
to go into that, Hugh? Wouldn't it be useless as well as a little
painful? Surely, going to Europe without one's husband is not an unusual
thing in these days. Let it just be understood that I want to go, that
the children have arrived at an age when it will do them good."
I got up and began to walk up and down the room, while she watched me
with a silent calm which was incomprehensible. In vain I summoned my
faculties to meet it.