” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. My heart fails me. ” He said. ‘And nor do I. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. ” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. It reverberated in the silence. ‘I cannot possibly shoot a lady, you know.
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