‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. It was ended. Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. Mr. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha.
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