“You are going to treat me as though I wasn’t. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. ‘But it is not on the horse at all, Jacques. “A man who does not touch his wife, who ignores his wife, what kind of man is he? I am not sick any more. “Get out of the car. He must have been following her from room to room, silent in his stockinged feet. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily.
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