“I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. We fail altogether to understand your motives in doing what you are doing, or, indeed, how you are managing to do it, or what you are managing on.
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