"It certainly would be simpler than the other situation you suggest." "It would for both of us." "But why this sudden yearning for simplicity? And why Dora Nicholson?" "There isn't any why. Anybody else would do, provided you liked them better than me. It's only a question of time, you know. You're bound to tire of me sooner or later." "Later, Kitty, later. Barring jealousy. If you're going in for that, I may as well tell you at once that I shall tire of it very soon." "You think that's what's the matter with me?" "Well, something's the matter with you. I suppose it's that. I should drop it, Kitty. It really isn't worth while. It only makes you thin, and--and I can't be bored with it, d'you see?" "I don't want--to be bored--with it--either." She spoke very slowly. "If you wanted to leave me for Dora Nicholson, I should be a fool to try and keep you, shouldn't I?" "Well--you're not a fool." "You're not a fool either, Wilfrid." "If I am I take some pains to conceal it." "If a woman wanted to leave you for another man, would you try and keep her?" He looked at her attentively. "It depends on the woman, and on some other things besides. For instance, if I were married to her, I might make a considerable effort, not to keep _her_, but--to keep up appearances." "And if--you were not married to her?" "There again it would depend on the woman. I might take it that she'd left me already." "Yes, but if you knew she wasn't that sort--if you knew she'd always been straight with you?" "Well, then perhaps I might take the trouble to find out whether there really was another man. Or I might have reason to suppose she was only trying it on. In which case I should say to her 'My dear Kitty, you're a very clever woman and it's a brilliant idea you've got. But it's been tried before and it won't work. You can't draw me that way.'" "But, Wilfrid--if there _was_ another man?" "Well, it's possible that I might not consider it worth while to dispute his claim. That would depend altogether on the woman." "If you cared for her?" "If I cared enough for her I might be able to convince her that it would at any rate be prudent, from a worldly point of view, to stick to me. But _that_ would depend, wouldn't it, on the amount of the other fellow's income?" "And if all that didn't matter in the very least to her, if she didn't care a rap about anybody's income, if she cared for the other fellow more than she'd ever cared for you, if she didn't care for your caring, if she cared for nothing except _his_ caring, and nothing you could do could move her--what would you do then?" He paused to light another cigarette before he answered her. "I should probably tell her, first of all, that for all I cared she might go to the devil, I mean to the other fellow, and stay there as long as he wanted her." "Well"--she said placably.