He knew nothing except that he felt perfectly mad with fate--mad with himself for making an unconditional promise to Henry, perfectly furious that he had been too stupid to connect the name of Howard at once with his wife.
And here he was sleeping in her castle--not she sleeping in his! And he was conforming to her lead--not she following his.

And the only thing for a gentleman to do under the complicated circumstances was to speedily divorce her according to the Scottish law and let her marry his friend, Henry Fordyce--give them his blessing and lend them Arranstoun for the honeymoon! When he got thus far in his meditations, he simply stood in the middle of the room and cursed aloud.
Never in his whole life had bolts or bars or circumstances been allowed to keep him from his will.
And then it did come to his shrewd mind that these things were not circumstances, but were barriers forged _by himself_.
"If I had not been such an awful brute--and the moment had not been--as it was--I might have gradually made her love me and kept her always for my own!" his thoughts ran.

"Well--we were both too young then--and now I must take the consequences and at least not be a swine to poor old Henry." With superb irony, among his letters next morning which he had wired to be forwarded to Heronac, there came one from his lawyer, informing him that he had received a guarded communication from his wife's representative, Mr.Parsons--with what practically amounted to a request that he, Mr.Arranstoun, should begin to set the law in motion, to break the bond between them--and his lawyer inquired what his wishes were upon the subject and what should be the nature of their reply?
To get this at Heronac--Sabine's house! He shook with fierce laughter in his bed.
Then his temper got up, and he came to a fresh determination.

He would break her pride--she should kneel if she wanted her freedom, she should have it only if she asked him for it herself.

He would not leave that day after all! He would stay and play the comedy to its end.