“Would you stand it? I’m going to clear out. In all other respects they differed as materially. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. Unless they remind him now and then not to. “What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical. This time there wasn't any doubt. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her.
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