“Strangle away!” he said.
“I would sooner you spoke,” she said. “I don’t want to murder you just yet. So unpleasant for mother.”
“Whether it’s unpleasant for me or not doesn’t seem to matter,” said Peter throatily, for Silvia increased the pressure of her hand.
“Not a bit, darling,” said she. “I shall squeeze tighter and tighter until you tell me what we shall say to Nellie.”
“Brute!” said Peter. “Don’t do it, Silvia. You’re hurting me frightfully.”
He wrinkled up his forehead and drew in his breath quickly, as if in great pain. Instantly Silvia took her hand away.
“Oh, my dear, I haven’t really hurt you?” she asked with compunction.
“Once upon a time,” said Peter, “there was a woman who believed every word that her husband said.”
Silvia sat down on the edge of the long chair.
“Was? There is one,” she said. “If you told me you hated me, I should believe you.”