So did Mrs.Boyce, but characteristically she made no comment.
"Well, then," he resumed after a pause, "I need say no more for the present.

How is the wife ?" She replied, and a few other formal sentences of inquiry or comment passed between them.
"And your election ?" said Mrs.Boyce, still studying him with hostile eyes, as he got up to take leave.
"To-morrow!" He threw up his hands with a little gesture of impatience.
"That at least will be one thread spun off and out of the way, whatever happens.

I must get back to Widrington as fast as my pony can carry me.
Good-bye, Miss Boyce." Marcella went slowly upstairs.

The scene which had just passed was unreal, impossible; yet every limb was quivering.

Then the sound of the front door shutting sent a shock through her whole nature.