"But don't bother; we'll see to all that." Gregory rose and went to the window.

He said suddenly: "I can't bear this underhand work." Mr.Paramor smiled.
"Every honest man," he said, "feels as you do.

But, you see, we must think of the law." Gregory burst out again: "Can no one get a divorce, then, without making beasts or spies of themselves ?" Mr.Paramor said gravely "It is difficult, perhaps impossible.

You see, the law is based on certain principles." "Principles ?" A smile wreathed Mr.Paramor's mouth, but died instantly.
"Ecclesiastical principles, and according to these a person desiring a divorce 'ipso facto' loses caste.

That they should have to make spies or beasts of themselves is not of grave importance." Gregory came back to the table, and again buried his head in his hands.
"Don't joke, please, Paramor," he said; "it's all so painful to me." Mr.Paramor's eyes haunted his client's bowed head.
"I'm not joking," he said.