He was stormily pleased to be in it, and at the same time scornful of it.

It seemed to contain not a few ancient shams and hollow pretenders-- Ah! once more the soft, ingratiating voice beside him.

Madame de Pastourelles was expressing a flattering wish to see his picture, of which her father had talked so much.
'And he says you have found such a beautiful model--or, rather, better than beautiful--characteristic.' Fenwick stared at her.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say 'She is my wife.' But he did not say it.

He imagined her look of surprise--'Ah, my father had no idea!'-- imagined it with a morbid intensity, and saw no way of confronting or getting round it; not at the dinner-table, anyway--with all these eyes and ears about him--above all, with Lord Findon opposite.