But his curved fingers longed for Doremus' throat and he made up his mind that if his awful suspicions were vindicated he would beat his wife black and blue.

That was far more sensible and manly than running whining to a divorce court.
The effort at self-control left him gasping, but when he rose from his shelter he was outwardly composed, and determined to seek Gwynne and force the truth from him.

He would not discuss his wife with another woman.

And whatever this hideous tragedy brooding over his life he would go out and come to grips with it at once.
III And in the corridor he saw his wife chatting gayly with a group of young friends.

Her color was paler than usual, perhaps, but that was not uncommon at a party, and otherwise she was as unruffled, as normal in appearance and manner, as when they had parted at the Gwynnes'.
Nevertheless, he went directly up to her, and as she gave a little cry of pleased surprise, he drew her hand through his arm.