And then, suddenly, she was conscious that a cloud had come. She glanced at his face, and saw that he was angry.
“Why didn’t you write?”
“I couldn’t. And you are angry with me?”
“With you! Good God, no! I am angry with society, with that particular cad, and that female, the Champion woman. I think I shall go and half kill that man.”
She stretched out a hand.
“Don’t! I should not have told you. Besides, it is all over.”
He contradicted her.
“No, these things leave a mark—an impression.”
“Need it be a bad one?”
“Perhaps not. It depends.”