He divorced her. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. Suspicion was in his face. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. It was interesting to see how different and characteristic his mode of approach was to all sorts of questions that interested her, and it was amusing to discover this other side to the life of a Morningside Park inhabitant. She seemed to assume that it must certainly be something she had said. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. " "Won't you take me?" "No; you must await my return here. I want you to feel that you have found a friend who has a strong desire to be of service to you. You’ll have to go back to Remenham House. The rest.
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