Involuntarily the eyes of the two—Craven and Sharpley—met. There were irritation and perplexity in the expression of each. What could be done with such a perverse woman, so wholly inaccessible to reason?
"Confound it!" thought Sharpley. "If I had foreseen all this trouble, I would have stayed and seen the brat under ground. Of all the unreasonable women I ever met, Mrs. Craven takes the palm."
"I have not yet told the circumstances," he said, aloud. "Let me do so. You will then, probably, understand that your hopes have nothing to rest upon."
He gave a detailed account, exaggerating the dangerous character of the cliff purposely.
"What do you think now, my dear?" asked Mr. Craven.
"I believe that Frank escaped. If he has, he will come home, sooner or later. I shall wait patiently. I must now beg to be excused."
She rose from her chair, and left the room.
"What do you think of that, Sharpley?" demanded Craven, when she was out of ear-shot. "Did I not tell you the truth?"
"Yes, your wife is the most perverse, unreasonable woman it was ever my lot to encounter."