"Even if he's another woman's husband, if she's ever given him the right—"
"Right? Do you think you bought the right to make love to me?" She rose, confronting him.
"No. I thought you'd given it me…. I was mistaken."
He helped her to put on the coat that she wriggled into with clumsy, irritated movements. Clumsy. The woman was clumsy. He wondered how he had never seen it. And vulgar. Noisy and vulgar. You never knew what a woman was like till you'd seen her angry. He had answered her appropriately and with admirable tact. He had scored every point; he was scoring now with his cool, imperturbable politeness. He tried not to think about Barbara.
"Your fur."
"Thank you."
He rang the bell. Partridge appeared.
"Tell Kimber to bring the car round and drive Mrs. Levitt home."
"Thank you, Mr. Waddington, I'd rather walk."
Partridge retired.