Louisa announced when they returned home. “I shall be in my room if you want me. Henry?” “I’m going to bed,” her husband stated succinctly. “Anything you have to say to me can wait until the morning.” Sibyl led the way to the front parlor, but she felt trapped when Burch closed the door behind her, reluctant to come to the point; she had made her decision, however, and it was unfair to put off telling Burch any longer. “Why did you leave?” he asked, without waiting for her to begin. “You know why,” she replied evasively. She still couldn’t speak the hated words, confess her humiliation. “No, I don’t. You may have forgotten, but you didn’t tell anyone.” “It wasn’t anyone else’s business.” “Wasn’t it mine?” “If you wanted it to be, but you didn’t care.” “What do you mean, I didn’t care? Do you think I made love to you just to pass the time of day?” “Some other men would,” she said, looking at the floor. “I’m not other men,”
