You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall. ‘Do you at least know how he came to be in a position to cheat Miss Charvill, and to pass off his wife in her place?’ ‘In her place?’ There was no mistaking the boy’s ignorance of this part of the tale. At length, after he had given up the point from sheer exhaustion, the Amazon seized him by the throat, and pushed him backwards with such force that he rolled over the counter. You don’t understand. ‘At last,’ he cried, ‘I have found you!’ He would listen to nothing. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity.
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