He broke off. She was watching him with a close attention, and her body had ceased to tremble under his arm.
“Go on, Desmond.”
“You want me to tell you the sort of man you've married?”
“I want you to tell me what you mean.”
“Then I will. Claire, this afternoon I took you away from that snake-charming chap because—well, because you watched him as if he fascinated you.”
“Oh!”
“Of course I knew why. His performance was clever, and he was picturesque in his way, although, to be sure, it was all put on, as far as that goes.”
“Like my stage performances, Desmond.”
“Claire,” he said hotly. “How can you?”
“That man acts far better than I do—if he acts at all.”