A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. It isn’t law, nor custom, nor masculine violence settled that. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. But it annoyed Ann Veronica. “Mind my smoking?” said Roddy. ’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. Yon must be mine to-night.
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