It was one evening as she was putting things away in the kitchen before
going up to bed that she heard some one rap at the window. Could this be
Fred? Her heart was beating; she must let him in. The area was in
darkness; she could see no one.
"Who is there?" she cried.
"It's only me. I had to see you to-night on----"
She drew an easier breath, and asked him to come in.
William had expected a rougher reception. The tone in which Esther invited
him in was almost genial, and there was no need of so many excuses; but he
had come prepared with excuses, and a few ran off his tongue before he was
aware.
"Well," said Esther, "it is rather late. I was just going up to bed; but
you can tell me what you've come about, if it won't take long."
"It won't take long.... I've seen my solicitor this afternoon, and he says
that I shall find it very difficult to get a divorce."
"So you can't get your divorce?"
"Are you glad?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean? You must be either glad or sorry."
"I said what I mean. I am not given to telling lies." Esther set the large
tin candlestick, on which a wick was spluttering, on the kitchen table,
and William looked at her inquiringly. She was always a bit of a mystery
to him. And then he told her, speaking very quickly, how he had neglected
to secure proofs of his wife's infidelity at the time; and as she had
lived a circumspect although a guilty life ever since, the solicitor
thought that it would be difficult to establish a case against her.
"Perhaps she never was guilty," said Esther, unable to resist the
temptation to irritate.
"Not guilty! what do you mean? Haven't I told you how I found them the day
I came up from Ascot?... And didn't she own up to it? What more proof do
you want?"
"Anyway, it appears you haven't enough; what are you going to do? Wait
until you catch her out?"
"There is nothing else to do, unless----" William paused, and his eyes
wandered from Esther's.
"Unless what?"
"Well, you see my solicitors have been in communication with her
solicitors, and her solicitors say that if it were the other way round,
that if I gave her reason to go against me for a divorce, she would be
glad of the chance. That's all they said at first, but since then I've
seen my wife, and she says that if I'll give her cause to get a divorce
she'll not only go for it, but will pay all the legal expenses; it won't
cost us a penny. What do you think Esther?"
"I don't know that I understand. You don't mean----"
"You see, Esther, that to get a divorce--there's no one who can hear us,
is there?"
"No, there's no one in the 'ouse except me and the missus, and she's in
the study reading. Go on."
"It seems that one of the parties must go and live with another party
before either can get a divorce. Do you understand?"
"You don't mean that you want me to go and live with you, and perhaps get
left a second time?"
"That's all rot, Esther, and you knows it."
"If that's all you've got to say to me you'd better take your hook."
"Do you see, there's the child to consider? And you know well enough,
Esther, that you've nothing to fear; you knows as well as can be that I
mean to run straight this time. So I did before. But let bygones be
bygones, and I know you'd like the child to have a father; so if only for
his sake----"
"For his sake! I like that; as if I hadn't done enough for him. Haven't I
worked and slaved myself to death and gone about in rags? That's what that
child has cost me. Tell me what he's cost you. Not a penny piece--a toy
boat and a suit of velveteen knickerbockers,--and yet you come telling
me--I'd like to know what's expected of me. Is a woman never to think of
herself? Do I count for nothing? For the child's sake, indeed! Now, if it
was anyone else but you. Just tell me where do I come in? That's what I
want to know. I've played the game long enough. Where do I come in? That's
what I want to know."
"There's no use flying in a passion, Esther. I know you've had a hard
time. I know it was all very unlucky from the very first. But there's no
use saying that you might get left a second time, for you know well enough
that that ain't true. Say you won't do it; you're a free woman, you can
act as you please. It would be unjust to ask you to give up anything more
for the child; I agree with you in all that. But don't fly in a rage with
me because I came to tell you there was no other way out of the
difficulty."
"You can go and live with another woman, and get a divorce that way."
"Yes, I can do that; but I first thought I'd speak to you on the subject.
For if I did go and live with another woman I couldn't very well desert
her after getting a divorce."
"You deserted me."
"Why go back on that old story?"
"It ain't an old story, it's the story of my life, and I haven't come to
the end of it yet."
"But you'll have got to the end of it if you'll do what I say."