Jenner turned sullen. There was no chance of escaping from this, save by going out again into the storm, and he was much too comfortable where he was. So of the two evils he chose the lesser; and even in this his selfish regard for his own comfort shewed itself. "Go on, then," he growled, sullenly.
The woman returned to her seat, and averting her eyes she began to speak in a low, monotonous voice, rising ever and growing more excited as she went through the story of shame and sorrow.
"Let me begin at the beginning, when I was governess to Mr. Cass's little girl; then I was happy and respected. I was pretty, too, and admired. Mr. Cass was a merchant in the city, trading in Spanish wines----"
"What's the use of telling me all this?" broke in Jenner, impatiently. "It is all state. I was a clerk in Cass's office; I met you at his house when I was there on business, and I married you----"
"Yes, you married me," she cried, fiercely. "The more fool I for being taken by your good looks and your plausible tongue. For my sake it was that Mr. Cass raised you to a higher position and gave you a larger salary. We lived in Bloomsbury, and there, ten years ago, Gilbert was born; but not until you had broken my heart and ruined my life."
"Come now, I was kind to you when I was sober."
"And were you ever sober? No; you poor, weak fool. Because you had a good voice and musical talents you were led away by pleasure, and for months before Gilbert was born you behaved towards me in a way no woman could forgive. I was high-spirited, and I resented your conduct--your dissipation and your unfaithfulness."
"You were always on your high horse, if that is what you mean."
"I had every reason to be on my high horse, you brute. Remember the birth of Gilbert--how I suffered--how you were drunk the whole time. And when I got better I found that Mr. Cass had dismissed you for appropriating money."
Jenner sneered. "Cass made a great fuss about nothing."