"Will you swear it? " she asked with a faint mocking smile.
"Yes, if necessary. But you might be willing to take my word."
"No—don't swear—don't swear," she said musingly. Then she looked straight at him. "I'll ask you no more questions. It is finished. That leaf is turned down. One lives and learns—unfortunately. … Something is changed in me, Basil—this day has made a difference in our lives. I don't quite know what it is yet—I haven't got adjusted to it. It came on me so suddenly—like a physical blow."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Basil violently. "But I know I've had as much as I can stand. Life hasn't been any too pleasant of late, and this caps the climax. I think it is better you should go away. Then, perhaps, I can feel like a free man again, and not like an infernal miserable slave!"
"Yes—poor Basil," said Teresa softly, mockingly.
"Have you had enough to eat?" he demanded, a flame of anger in his eyes.
"Oh, plenty, thanks. Pay the bill and we'll go. And give the waiter a good big fee. It's been such a pleasant dinner."
Basil did not look at her again till just as they were leaving the restaurant. He had sent for a cab, and now he said:
