"Sour grapes," she commented.
"Call it that if you wish."
She dug her pen viciously into the polished surface of the desk, leaving
the holder quivering at the outrage.
"Larssen has been merely playing with you," continued Matheson. "I don't
want to blame, but to warn. I know the man far better than you do. He
thinks you might be useful to him."
"What are you going to do when the month is up?" she asked abruptly.
"What do you want me to do?"
She looked him straight in the eye, her pupils narrowed with hate. "Go
out of my life!"
"A legal separation?"
"No use at all. That ties me indefinitely."
"What then?"
"One of two things: divorce or disappearance."
"You mean a framed-up divorce? The usual arranged affair?"
"No, I don't. I mean a divorce with that Verney woman as co-respondent."
"I'll not have you insult her by calling her 'that Verney woman!'"
"Miss Verney, then.... It's either divorce or total disappearance."
"Larssen spoke glibly enough of disappearance, but the circumstances are
very different now from what they were on the night of March 14th.
Then, not a soul outside myself knew of my intention. You'd have
claimed leave from the Courts to presume death, and it would certainly
have been granted you. You would legally have been a widow, and I--as
Clifford Matheson--should legally have been dead.... But now, both you
and Larssen, and his secretary as well, know that Clifford Matheson is
alive.
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