But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. It was Annabel who spoke. "But, pardon my intrusion. " "You're agitating yourself unnecessarily, Joan," returned Wood, in a soothing voice. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. Not even, it seemed, this interfering monsieur le major. \" Diane chirped once again, ever-musical. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. But his role was altered, and he was now playing the bridegroom in this remarkable drama. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so.
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