"You like Miss Gastonguay?"
"Yes."
Derrice's radiant eyes flashed around the room, then, shuddering slightly, she drew her cloak about her.
"It is dull for you to come back to this house," said her husband, quietly. "You feel the contrast between it and Miss Gastonguay's beautiful home."
She dropped her head to his hand that lay outstretched on the table. "It is like a stone vault," she whispered against his fingers; "can't we leave it?"
She was so chary of her caresses that Justin's blood grew warm in his veins, though his manner became troubled.
"Never mind to-night," she went on. "I don't want to vex you. Oh, I have had such a good time!" and she closed her eyes rapturously until a sudden misgiving caused them to fly open. "You didn't miss me, I hope?"
"I always miss you."
"But not with a hateful, longing miss. Do tell me that you are beginning to get weaned away from me. Oh, I should be so glad! It is ridiculous for you to be so fond of me. Really, it just makes me laugh,"—and she shook her head like a provoking child.
"You little flirt," he said, composedly. "You have gone out and got your blood stirred, and, coming back to this quiet house, you, for lack of other amusement, wish to incite me to make love to you."