She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. ’ ‘To you,’ she said angrily. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. He could not make good his hold. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping.
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