It is rather hard to analyze the Major's attitude towards Gertie; but what is certain is that the idea of anyone else making love to her was simply intolerable. Certainly he did not treat her with any great chivalry; he made her carry the heavier bundles on the tramp; he behaved to her with considerable disrespect; he discussed her freely with his friends on convivial occasions. But she was his property—his and no one else's. He had had his suspicions before; he had come in quietly just now on purpose, and he had found himself confronted by this very peculiar little scene.
He looked at them both in silence. Then his lips sneered like a dog's.
"Pardon me," he said, with extreme politeness. "I appear to be interrupting a private conversation."
No one said anything. Frank leaned his elbow on the mantelpiece.
"It was private, then?" continued the Major with all the poisonous courtesy at his command.
"Yes; it was private," said Frank shortly.
The Major put his bowler hat carefully upon the table.
"Gertie, my dear," he said. "Will you be good enough to leave us for an instant? I regret having to trouble you."
Gertie breathed rather rapidly for a moment or two. She was not altogether displeased. She understood perfectly, and it seemed to her rather pleasant that two men should get into this kind of situation over her. She was aware that trouble would come to herself later, probably in the form of personal chastisement, but to the particular kind of feminine temperament that she possessed even a beating was not wholly painful, and the cheap kind of drama in which she found herself was wholly attractive. After an instant's pause, she cast towards Frank what she believed to be a "proud" glance and marched out.
"If you've got much to say," said Frank rapidly, as the door closed, "you'd better keep it for this evening. I've got to go in ... in two minutes."