But it had no particular accent, and Daphne thought it both tame and depressing; like an English society made up of Archdeacon Mountfords and their women-kind! What a futile, irritating man!--and what dull creatures were the wife and daughter!--mere echoes of their lord and master.

She had behaved badly, of course; in a few days she supposed the report of her outburst would be all over the place.

She did not care.

Even for Roger's sake she was not going to cringe to these poor provincial standards.
And all the time she knew very well that it was not the Archdeacon and his fatuities that were really at fault.

The afternoon had been decided not by the Mountfords' call, but by that which had preceded it..