John, he was between me and the door. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. And now she was witnessing or observing the complicated machinery of civilization through which they had come, at length to land on the beach of her island. They stood back together and stared at it. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied myself happy,—as happy as I am now. “I have not quarrelled with her.
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