Nigel made up his mind to try and throw it off. But he couldn’t do it by staying with his wife.
To look at her would be agonising now.
Still he made up his mind he would be calm, he would not be unkind to her; he would be firm, and, as far as possible, have no sort of scene.
When he went in, she was sitting in the boudoir looking out of the window as usual. She saw him before he came in. It was not six o’clock yet and quite light.
“Well, Nigel darling?” She ran up to him.
He moved away.
“Please don’t, Mary. I’ve got something serious to speak to you about.”
She turned pale, guiltily.