He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. He declined supper, but took wine. To disillusion her, forthwith. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. "Who've you got with you?" demanded the Amazon, boldly. Maggot. His fingers closed upon her hand. It is like a second honeymoon. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds.
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