“No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. The key is in my trousers. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. ” Sir John did not hesitate any longer. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. "In case he should consent—" "He never will," interrupted Winifred.
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