But she outstared him, holding
her lips in the center of the comedy rim so that he could see how firm
their bite.
"Not to me."
"To her, then."
"Even you wouldn't be low enough to let her know--"
"Know what?"
"Facts."
"You mean she doesn't know?"
"Know! Know you for what you are and for what you made of me? I've
kept it something decent for her. Just the separation of husband and
wife--who couldn't agree. Incompatibility. I have not told her--" And
suddenly could have rammed her teeth into the tongue that had betrayed
her. Simultaneously with the leap of light into his eyes came the leap
of her error into her consciousness.
"Oh," he said, and smiled, a slow smile that widened as leisurely as
sorghum in the pouring.
"You made me tell you that! You came here for that. To find out!"
"Nothin' the sort, Hattie. You only verified what I kinda suspected.
Naturally, you've kept it from her. Admire you for it."
"But I lied! See! I know your tricks. She does know you for what you are
and what you made of me.
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