“Oh, Fanny!” he said, “Why do you look like that?”
“I am not looking in any particular way,” she said, darning hard.
“You know you are! . . . Why this feeling against Stanny?”
Frances Mary dropped the sock in her lap. “I can’t help it, Wilfred. He dislikes me so!”
“You’re wrong, I tell you! It is only that he is terrified of you.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“He’s terrified of every respectable woman.”
“I’m not a respectable woman.”
“Then why not show him? You stick it on for fair when he is around.”
“It isn’t Stanny at all,” she said unhappily. “It’s you.”