"They know I'm not Barraclough?"
"I told them, yes."
"You shouldn't," he said simply.
"I thought they'd let you go."
"Well?" He refilled his glass.
"They said it wouldn't be possible now. That's why I've got to get you away—somehow—somehow."
She was moving desperately up and down the room as though by very desire she would create an opening in the walls.
"Get me away!" he said stupidly. "Why do you want to get me away?"
"Because you're a different man, a splendid man. And they're beasts and brutes."
It was all very confusing, very unbelievable. Richard had a faint impression that it was happening to someone else or in a dream. Why was this wonderful creature worrying about him. The wine was mounting to his head.