He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. His eyes never left her face. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. Vee’s all right. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. Success to our enterprise!" "Success to our enterprise!" echoed the others, significantly.
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