She whipped round suddenly, and discovered the woman wedged into the corner by the window, keeping out of the way. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. It is better that you go away now, I think. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. A woman has a perfect right to choose her own husband, but Nigel seemed to think that there was something a little mysterious about your treatment of him. I can’t help it. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears.
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