She was behaving like an imbecile whilst he played the great game.
"You see," he went on, his own voice a little unsteady, "this is one of those moments in both our lives when anything except the exact truth would mean shipwreck.

You still love your husband ?" "I am such a fool!" she sobbed, clutching at his arm.
"You were willing to go away with me," he continued mercilessly, "partly because of the anger you felt towards him, and partly out of revenge, and just a little because you liked me.

Is that not so ?" Her head pressed upon his arm.

She nodded.

It was just that convulsive movement of her head, with its wealth of wonderful hair and its plain black motoring hat, which dealt the death-blow to his hopes.