We talked commonplaces, but our conversation was dull and soon languished. I fancied that I could feel the after-effects of a quarrel between my hosts, which had not yet been patched up and was on the verge of a fresh outbreak. I ardently desired to avoid the storm, but, unfortunately, uncle and nephew left the table to discuss business matters. Now the mine would explode!
As soon as we were alone the Baroness leaned toward me and said excitedly—
"Do you know that Gustav is angry with me for coming back unexpectedly?"
"I know nothing about it."
"Then you don't know that he'd been building on meeting my charming cousin on his free Sundays?"
"My dear Baroness," I exclaimed, interrupting her, "if you want to bring charges against your husband, hadn't you better do it in his presence?"
... What had I done? It was brutal, this harsh, uncompromising rebuke, flung into the face of a disloyal wife in defence of a member of my own sex.
"How dare you!" she cried, amazed, changing colour. "You're insulting me!"
"Yes, Baroness, I am insulting you."
All was over between us, for ever.