Sabine admitted to herself that the umpires might have called "touché" for this.
"It would seem so," she allowed, with what she thought was generosity.
"That is better than only creating indifference."
"Yes—the indifference came later."
"One expected that; but there was a time, you have inferred, when she felt something. What was it? Can't you tell me?"
Excitement was rising high now in both of them, and the grouse on their plates remained almost untasted.
"At first, she did not know herself, I think; but afterwards, when she came to understand things, she felt resentment and hate, and it taught her to appreciate chivalry and gentleness."
Michael almost cried "touché!" aloud.
"He was an awful brute—the owner of Arranstoun, I suppose?"
"Yes—apparently—and one who broke a contract and rather glorified in the fact."