His blue eyes were shining like the sun from behind a cloud, and the cruellest looks could not have hurt me more.
I tried to keep my face from expressing the emotion I desired to conceal, and asked if he had caught a train easily from Portsmouth, seeing he had arrived so early.
"No. Oh no, there was no train up until eleven o'clock," he said.
"Then how did you get here so soon?" I asked, and though he would not tell me at first I got it out of him at last—he had hired a motor-car and travelled the ninety miles to London in two hours and a half.
That crushed me. I could not speak. I thought I should have choked. Lying there with Martin at arm's length of me, I was afraid of myself, and did not know what I might do next. But at last, with a great effort to control myself, I took his hand and kissed it, and then turned my face to the wall.
FIFTY-FIFTH CHAPTER
That was the beginning of the end, and when, next day towards noon, my husband came with drowsy eyes to make a kind of ungracious apology, saying he supposed the doctor had been sent for, I said:
"James, I want you to take me home."
"Home? You mean . . . Castle Raa?"