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"Why should I bother? I don't want to marry again. I can't have children. Andy's son will inherit."
"But I want to marry Lloyd!"
"Why should I care about that? Why should he have children if I can't?"
Daisy was devastated. Would happiness be snatched away from her just when it seemed to be within her reach? "Boy, you can't mean this!"
"I've never been more serious in my life."
Her voice was anguished. "But Lloyd wants children of his own!"
"He should have thought of that before he f-f-fucked another man's wife."
"Very well, then," she said defiantly. "I'll divorce you."
"On what grounds?"
"Adultery, of course."
"But you have no evidence." She was about to say that that shouldn't be a problem when he grinned maliciously and added: "And I'll take care you don't get any."
He could do that, if he was discreet about his liaisons, she realized with growing horror. "But you threw me out!" she said.
"I shall tell the judge you're welcome to come home anytime."
She tried to stop herself crying. "I never thought you'd hate me this much," she said miserably.
"Didn't you?" said Boy. "Well, now you bloody well know."
v
Lloyd Williams went to Boy Fitzherbert's house in Mayfair at midmorning, when Boy would be sober, and told the butler he was Major Williams, a distant relative. He thought a man-to-man conversation was worth a try. Surely Boy did not really want to dedicate the rest of his life to revenge? Lloyd was in uniform, hoping to appeal to Boy as one fighting man to another. Good sense must surely prevail.
He was shown into the morning room, where Boy sat reading the paper and smoking a cigar. It took Boy a moment to recognize him. "You!" he said when comprehension dawned. "You can piss off right away."
"I've come to ask you to give Daisy a divorce," Lloyd said.
"Get out." Boy got to his feet.
Lloyd said: "I can see that you're toying with the idea of taking a swing at me, so in fairness I should tell you that it won't be as easy as you imagine. I'm a bit smaller than you, but I box at welterweight, and I've won quite a lot of contests."
"I'm not going to soil my hands on you."
"Good decision. But will you reconsider the divorce?"
"Absolutely not."
"There's something you don't know," Lloyd said. "I wonder if it might change your mind."
"I doubt it," Boy said. "But go on, now that you're here, give it a shot." He sat down, but did not offer Lloyd a chair.
Be it on your own head, Lloyd thought.
He took from his pocket a faded sepia photograph. "If you'd be so kind, glance at this picture of me." He put it on the side table next to Boy's ashtray.
Boy picked it up. "This isn't you. It looks like you, but the uniform is Victorian. It must be your father."
"My grandfather, in fact. Turn it over."
