“How dare you speak to me so?” she said, angrily.
And then he answered in a low voice, as if fearful of being overheard: “And how dare you forget that you are my brother’s wife?”
She gave a half-smothered cry of pain, as though he had struck her. Then she buried her head in her hands and sobbed softly.
“Don’t!—Please don’t—Oh, don’t—Gladys—” he said. It was the first time he had called her thus, by name, and she said, between her sobs: “Oh, I am so unhappy, so unhappy!”
She raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were filled with tears. He went toward her hesitatingly. By her side he paused; his hands were clinched and held close to his face. He said hoarsely: “Don’t. Don’t make—me—forget—” He drew nearer; she held up her arms as if to ward off a blow, and then the gray-haired man’s voice called out sleepily from a window on the other side of the cottage: “Gladys! Dick!”
“Yes?” said the young man.
“You had better come in now.”
“Yes. Coming.”