"So, madam," her husband said furiously, "this is your candid opinion of me." He spoke in a tone of concentrated rage.
"It was written long ago," faltered Margaret.
"Oh, it was written long ago. Well, now I know your opinion of me I shall alter my conduct towards you—you sneaking...."
He came towards her. Margaret, frightened, rang the bell, and the sound was to her surprise repeated outside. There was a commotion in the hall. Before she could speak Grace, wet, wearied, but with all her accustomed nonchalance, stepped into the room.
Before the sisters could clasp each other Mr. Drayton rushed between them furious. The sight of Grace, whom he hated, drove him to frenzy, and the servant entreated her to go, as he did his utmost to restrain him.
"Yes, you had better go, darling," sobbed Margaret.
"But you will not remain here, you will come too," pleaded Grace, panting.
"Oh, Grace, my child! I cannot leave it—I cannot risk moving it."
She wrote the doctor's address in pencil, and saw her sister go, resolved that she would go and see her the next morning.
"The doctor will help you, Grace, and if you get some nice rooms I will manage for you."