His upper lip curled back from his teeth, in an angry snarl.
Helen gazed at him, petrified with terror.
His eyes met hers, and he saw the horror in them.

Instantly, the anger died out of his.

He lowered his hand, carefully examined the pattern on the cup, then replaced it gently in the saucer.
"I beg your pardon," he said.

"I ought not to have said that--about another woman.

There is but _one_ woman for me; and, welcome or no welcome, there is but one home." Then he turned from her, slowly, deliberately, taking his 'cello with him.