"Owen—I'm—I'm sorry." She spoke haltingly. "I—I didn't mean to give you trouble. Can I—will you let me help you—to make up for what I've done?"
He raised his eyebrows and laughed rather bitterly.
"It's very kind of you, Toni, but I think I won't trouble you. Your repentance is a little belated, isn't it? And I think I prefer to keep my work to myself in future."
The fire of her rage gave one last expiring flicker.
"As usual," she said, "your work is more to you than I. I wonder you ever married, Owen. Marriage doesn't seem to mean a great deal to you."
"I sometimes wonder, myself," he said drily. "Certainly I haven't found it a very enjoyable state of late. It seems you haven't, either. Perhaps we were in too great a hurry after all, Toni."
He did not mean the words, which were wrung from him by his exasperation at her childish folly; but the effect on Toni was disastrous.
She could not well turn paler than she was already; but a chill crept into her veins, congealing her blood as she stood in front of the fire. She shivered slightly; and then with an effort which made her feel physically exhausted, she moved slowly towards the door.
"Where are you going, Toni?" Owen questioned her rather coldly.
She turned round; and all the youth was gone from her face.