There was an under sound of vexation in his voice.
“Have you heard anything?”
“No. But no doubt he’s still in the North with his mother.”
“How domestic. I hope there is a stool of repentance in the family house.”
“I wonder if you could ever repent of anything.”
“Do you think there is anything I ought to repent of?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What?”
“You might have married a man who knew the truth of you, and you married a man incapable of ever knowing it.”
He half expected an outburst of anger to follow his daring speech, but she sat quite still, looking at him steadily. She had taken off her gloves, and her hands lay lightly, one resting on the other.