"Clara, you are growing foolish."
"Don't put me off in this false way," she vehemently uttered, roused to passion by his indifference. "Why are you always with her, stealing walks and interviews?--why do you give to her your impassioned kisses, and call her by endearing names? Robert, you will kill me!"
He put the heel of his boot on the bars to push down a piece of refractory coal, probably debating with himself what he should answer.
"Considering that you are my wife, Clara, and that Lady Ellis is but a chance acquaintance, I think you might be above this nonsense."
"Have you forgotten my dream?" she resumed, in a low tone. "Have you forgotten that my coming to this house seemed to shadow forth my death?"
"That dream again, of all things!" exclaimed Mr. Lake in open surprise, involuntary sarcasm in his tone. "I thought it was done with and dismissed."
"I have been thinking of it all the evening."
"Then I'd not confess it," he said, dropping either by accident or in temper the hair-brush he had taken in his hand "And the notion of my kissing Lady Ellis! and calling her--what did you phrase it?--endearing names? That's the best joke I have heard lately."
She fixed her gaze steadfastly upon him; there was something in it which seemed to say she could convict him of falsehood, if she chose; and his eyes fell beneath hers.
"What has come over you, Clary? You must be turning jealous! I never knew you so foolish before."