"You must be mad!" he said.
"Why? To like a shower-bath from the rain?"
"And how did you dry yourself?"
"On an old towel and at the fire."
He still stared at her in a dumbfounded way.
"And supposing anybody came," he said.
"Who would come?"
"Who? Why anybody! And Mellors. Does he come? He must come in the evenings."
"Yes, he came later, when it had cleared up, to feed the pheasants with corn."
She spoke with amazing nonchalance. Mrs. Bolton, who was listening in the next room, heard in sheer admiration. To think a woman could carry it off so naturally!