She was very miserable.
"Of course not, my dear Drusilla," he protested nervously.

Then suddenly, as his eye caught what he considered a suspicious movement of Bobby's hand as he placed a card close to Lady Deppingham's fingers: "Demme, I--I'd rather he wouldn't--but I beg your pardon, Drusilla! It's all perfectly innocent." "Of course, it's innocent!" whispered Drusilla fiercely.
"You know, my dear girl, I--I don't hate your husband.

You may have a feeling that I do, but----" "I suppose you think that I hate your wife.

Well, I don't! I'm very fond of her." "It's utter nonsense for us to suspect them of--Pray don't be so upset, Drusilla.

It's all right----" "If you think I am worrying over your wife's _harmless_ affair with my husband, you are very much mistaken." Deppingham was silent for a long time.
"I don't sleep at all these night," he said at last, miserably.