“There was nothing to say. I met Colonel Richardson, I spoke to him, and that was all. What is there strange in that?”
“Oh, nothing, of course!” He paused for a moment and looked away from her. Then he burst out, but as if to himself: “It was Colonel Richardson who came dangling after you four years ago. You always liked him.”
“Harry, don’t be so absurd as to be jealous of Colonel Richardson! Indeed you have never had the slightest cause to be so.”
“How can I be sure of that?” said he, turning upon her suddenly. “One thing I am certain of—that is, that, during these four years that you have been away from me, you have met somebody you liked better than me. I don’t say it was unnatural—I don’t say I’m surprised; but I say that I know I’m right, and I’ll find out who it is, as sure as I’m your husband! You say I’ve no need to be jealous of any actor—and I don’t myself think you would lower yourself as far as that——”
“You forget that I’m an actress,” said Annie, composedly.
“Were an actress; but you’re not one now,” answered he, hastily. “Well, if you never cared for any actor, why not for Colonel Richardson? He is handsome, and knows how to talk to you about the things you like.”
“But I have told you already that I never cared for Colonel Richardson: and your persistent jealousy is an insult to me when I tell you it has no foundation. He belongs to a type of man which has no attraction for me.”
“What type’s that?”
“He is an idler; and I have worked too long and too hard myself not to despise idleness in a man.”
Harry gave a grunt of disapproval.