"Well?" He did not move.
The psychology of woman has been too often commented upon and attempted by those who thought they could explain. Why Claire was doing and saying what she did, she herself could not tell.
"Lawrence, don't you ever, ever act as you did yesterday again."
He smiled. "It would be dangerous if your gallant should come in less slowly." He was filled with a desire to hurt her.
Claire was angry with him for saying what was so utterly far from her mind and so different from what she wanted him to say.
"If my gallant should come in," she thrust coldly, "he would scarcely appreciate the melodrama you are playing."
Lawrence sat up with a jerk, his rage near the boiling point.
"What do you mean?" he demanded. "I have not interfered with your delightful episode, have I?"
"No, and you couldn't. I mean that my husband—he is my lover—for I know that is what you intend by 'gallant'—would scarcely appreciate the type of man who mopes and abuses the woman who does not care to lie in his arms."
Lawrence sat still, while a fierce, uncontrollable rage consumed him. He felt that to take this woman and whip her into submission would be a pleasure. He thought of the lash he had in his studio at home and wished it were in his hand. With the thought he rose and stepped swiftly toward Claire, his teeth set.