With his hat, a hat studiously selected, made to order, Paliser motioned and with the same studiousness, selecting a platitude, he produced it. "I was going to take you out."
"After taking me in," Cassy in reviewing the situation subsequently commented. But at the time she said nothing. She merely looked. Her rage was gone, her anger spent. Only disgust remained. It was that which her face expressed. It was withering.
Paliser, steadying himself and, as was perhaps only natural, hedging still, resumed: "But apparently you have other intentions."
What a cad that blackguard is! thought Cassy who still said nothing.
"May I ask what they are?"
Cassy threw up her chin. "My intentions are to leave——"
"But why?"
"Don't presume to interrupt me. My intentions are to leave your assignation-house and have you horsewhipped."
Paliser had been served with strong drink before, but none ever as strong as that. It steadied him. He had expected that when it got to her, as eventually it must, there would be the passionate upbraidings, the burst of sobs, the Oh! Oh's!, the What will become of me?, the usual run up and down the scale and the usual remedies which a bank account supplies. He had expected all that. He had prescribed for it often. There was not a symptom for which he did not know the proper dose and just when to administer it. But barely had he crossed the threshold before he realised that all his science would be in default.
Cassy presented an entirely new case, but, fortunately, in the drink which she had served, he saw or thought he saw how to treat it.