“You had better let me finish what I have got to say. I will be as brief as I can. That is my case as regards Bill. Now about myself. What do you think I am made of? I’ve stood it just as long as I could; you have tried me too hard. I’m through. Heaven knows why it should have come to this. It is not so very long ago that Bill was half the world to you and I was the other half. Now, apparently, there is not room in your world for either of us.”
“End it? Yes, you’re right. One way or the other. Either go back to the old life or start a new one. What we are living now is a horrible burlesque.”
“What do you mean? How start a new life?”
“I mean exactly what I say. In the life you are living now I am an anachronism. I’m a survival. I’m out of date and in the way. You would be freer without me.”
“Is the idea so novel? Is our marriage the only failure in New York?”
“Only a little more, a very little more, than we are separated now. Never see each other again instead of seeing each other for a few minutes every day. It’s not a very big step to take.”
Ruth sat down and rested her chin on her hand, staring at nothing. Kirk went to the window and looked out.
Over the park the sky was black. In the room behind him the light had faded till it seemed as if night were come. The air was heavy and stifling. A flicker of lightning came and went in the darkness over the trees.
“It is the only reasonable thing to do. Our present mode of life is a farce. We are drifting farther apart every day. Perhaps I have changed. I know you have. We are two strangers chained together. We have made a muddle of it, and the best thing we can do is to admit it.
“I am no good to you. I have no part in your present life. You’re the queen and I’m just the prince consort, the fellow who happens to be Mrs. Winfield’s husband. It’s not a pleasant part to have to play, and I have had enough of it. We had better separate before we hate each other. You have your amusements. I have my work. We can continue them apart. We shall both be better off.”
He stopped. Ruth did not speak. She was still sitting in the same attitude. It was too dark to see her face. It formed a little splash of white in the dusk. She did not move.
