Her eyelids dropped, and he saw mendacity in her eyes' furtive fleeing under cover. He held her tighter. His arm shook her, not brutally, but with a nervous movement that he was powerless to control.
"You lie," he said. "You've been lying to me all the time. You are going back. You're going to that fellow Lucy."
"No. I'm going—somewhere—where I shan't see him."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Abroad?"
"I think so."
"By yourself?"
Her eyelids quivered, and she panted. "Yes."
There was a knock at the door.