She moved a little nearer. A faint flush came to his face.
"Sorry to refuse you, Prudence, but you ought to see that after having flung Meramble into the water I can't run away as if I were afraid of him. Still, we don't fight duels nowadays, you know."
"But sometimes folks kill some other folks," she returned.
Lawrence shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
"And Mr. Meramble's smile is so very glittering; it makes my backbone cold," Prudence went on; "and when he looks at you I feel like screaming."
"I wouldn't scream, if I were you," Lawrence remarked.
"I sha'n't, if I can help it; but I'm sure the time will come when I can't help it."
"In that case I'll call you insane and put you into an asylum."
Lawrence spoke these words so calmly that his wife shivered again, though she knew he was jesting. The glance she gave him now was not pleasant.
She turned towards the river and gazed at it, while her companion smoked. Already it seemed months since the other day when he and she had sat there and she had made him look at her with love.