"I always have embraced it," said she in her ringing voice.
"I believe it's about the only thing you ever wanted to embrace."
"You need not say so," she returned.
"Then why, oh why, do you wear those awful clothes?"
"My clothes are suitable," said she.
"Suitable? My dear girl, they suggest a divorce-suit, Majendie versus Majendie, if you like. You're a walking prosecution. Your face, with that expression on it, is a decree nisi with costs. You don't want to be a libel on your husband, do you?"
"How can you say such things?"
"Well—look in the glass, dear, if you don't believe me."
She looked. The dress was certainly not becoming. She greeted the joyless apparition with her thin, unwilling smile.
He put his arm around her and drew her to him. He loved her dearly, for all her sadness and unsweetness.