Pearl took this in silence; and they had walked a dozen yards or so
before they spoke again.

"Well, what of it?" she said at last, carelessly, almost gaily.
"Divorces are easy."

His expressionless face showed a cynical amusement, with just a hint of
triumph in the lighting of his eye. He shook his head. "I talked to
her," he said. "She's a good, decent woman, but she ain't quite straight
in her head when it comes to Hanson. He lied to her right along about
the others, even from the first; played fast and loose with her, and
finally eloped with one of his burlesque head-liners. She took it. What
else was there for her to do? But she spends about all of her time
watching her fences to see that there's no divorce in question. He's
done everything, tried to buy her off more than once, but it's no good.
Every place he goes she follows him up sooner or later, and she writes
him letters, too, every once in so often, offering to come back to him.
And he can't get anything on her, for she lives as straight as a string.
Oh, no, Pearl, Mr. Rudolf Hanson'll never marry again as long as that
lady's living, or I miss my guess."

It was evidently with difficulty that Pearl had controlled herself, her
brow had darkened and her upper lip had curled back from her white teeth
in a particularly unpleasant and disfiguring fashion. Again they walked
in one of those silences in which she was wont to entrench herself, and
then she looked up at him with a faintly scornful smile. "Well, you've
sure done your duty, Bob, and I guess you've got just about as much
thanks as folks usually do for that."

He drew his hand across his brow and looked before him a little