He was aware that she had said nothing.
"There!" he said, "you wish I hadn't told you. I know you do. You're shocked."
"No," she said, struggling to prevent her teeth from chattering.
He felt her shiver. "Why! you're shaking with cold! We oughtn't to have walked, but I did so want to speak to you about this. We must talk about it another time. But, I say, you aren't really horrified about it, are you?"
"No," she said again. "Another time though—There must be thunder. This storm makes my head ache."
She could say no more. The rest of the drive was in silence. In the hall she thanked him for her delightful evening.
She looked through the drawing-room door and wished her mother and sister good night, but did not stay to discuss incidents.
"Well," said Mrs. Rand, who had a fine list of questions ready about the play—"There's selfishness!"
Lizzie locked her door, undressed and lay down.
Like a sword jagging through and through her brain and piercing from there down to her heart stabbed the refrain: