Can't you accept me the same way?"
Philippa, momentarily uneasy, was nevertheless rebellious.
"Accept you the same way? How can I! There is nothing in my life
to compare in any way with the tragedy of your--"
She paused, as though unwilling to finish the sentence. He waited
patiently, however, for her to proceed.
"Of my what?"
Philippa compromised.
"Lethargy," she pronounced triumphantly.
"An excellent word," he murmured.
"It is too mild a one, but you are my husband," she remarked.
"That reminds me," he said quietly. "You are my wife."
"I know it," she admitted, "but I am also a woman, and there are
limits to my endurance. If you can give me no explanation of your
behaviour, Henry, if you really have no intention of changing it,
then there is only one course left open for me."
"That sounds rather alarming--what is it?" he demanded.
Philippa lifted her head a little. This was the pronouncement
towards which she had been leading.
"From to-day," she declared, "I cease to be your wife."
His fingers paused in the manipulation of the tobacco with which he
was filling his pipe. He turned and looked at her.
"You what?"
"I cease to be your wife."
"How do you manage that?" he asked.
"Don't jest," she begged. "It hurts me so. What I mean is surely
plain enough. I will continue to live under your roof if you wish
it, or I am perfectly willing to go back to Wood Norton.
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