“I didn’t think you could do such a thing without speaking to me first. My husband, and you——!”
She stopped abruptly, as if afraid of what she might say if she went on speaking. Two deep lines appeared in her forehead. For the first time in his life Dion saw an expression of acute hostility in her eyes. She had been angry, or almost angry with him for a moment in Elis, when he broke off the branch of wild olive; but she had not looked like this. There was something piercing in her expression that was quite new to him.
“I felt I ought to do it,” he said dully.
“Did you think I should try to prevent you?”
“No. I scarcely knew what I thought.”
“Have you told your mother?”
“No. I had to tell Uncle Biron because of the business. Nobody else knows.”
And then suddenly he remembered Beattie.
“At least I haven’t told any one else.”
“But some one else does know—knew before I did.”