"Yes! Because who I really love, and it'll make you hate me, is Mr. Mellors, who was our gamekeeper here."
If he could have sprung out of his chair, he would have done so. His face went yellow, and his eyes bulged with disaster as he glared at her.
Then he dropped back in the chair, gasping and looking up at the ceiling.
At length he sat up.
"Do you mean to say you're telling me the truth?" he asked, looking gruesome.
"Yes! You know I am."
"And when did you begin with him?"
"In the spring."
He was silent like some beast in a trap.
"And it was you, then, in the bedroom at the cottage?"