He glowered at her impotently. What scene could he make other than one of vulgar recrimination? She had caught him in a domestic lie and a public act of treachery. For the moment his wife had all the weapons. So they stood there in the rosy light of the hall, deadly enemies; she triumphant, radiant in her scornful beauty; he small, thin, foxy and malignant. Presently, with a laugh she moved to the front door.
“I never thought you particularly clever, Edgar,” she said. “But in diplomatic crudity you could give lessons to the Wilhelmstrasse.”
With which Parthian shot she opened the door and rejoined her friends in the car.
“Forgive me, dear people,” she said, settling in her place. “I’ve been having the time of my life.”
She returned to town with her guests on Monday morning, but did not see her husband until late in the afternoon, when, on his return from the Ministry, he found her alone in her sitting-room.
“My dear Edna,” said he, in a conciliatory tone, “we owe each other a little mutual understanding. It’s so undignified to quarrel.”
She put the book she was reading pages downward on her knee.
“Most undignified,” she assented.
“You were rather under a misapprehension as to Saturday night.”