' That is enough,' she said. ' Not another word, Harold, or I assure you I will throw the heaviest and hardest thing I can lift at you. I mean it.'
A rather ugly light came into his eyes—a stale, unwholesome sort of glow.
' Pray don't,' he said; ' we will leave the subject. I think you are behaving most ungenerously—that is all. I should like a few words with you about your dresses in “ Telegrams.” I will wait till you are ready to discuss them with me. Take a cigarette.'
She looked at him a moment in silence. In spite of herself, she could not help feeling the infernal mastery he had over her. As always, the more violent she became the more he seemed steeped in a calm compound of indifference and almost boredom. And since it is obviously more exhausting to continue violent than to continue calm, it followed that she had to compose herself, thus changing first, while he merely remained unmoved. It had happened often before, and it happened now.
' What is it you want me to say to Mrs. Massington?' she asked at length.
' Pray do not let us discuss it. You might throw something at me,' said he, smiling inwardly.
' Don't you see my point?' she asked. ' Besides, a word from me would do no good. She saw the terms we were on. It was obvious, blatant.'
' Then no harm would be done by your saying a word. She would not be deceived.'
' No; but she would think I tried to deceive her.'
' Would you mind that?' he asked.
' Very much. I like her.'
Bilton knew well the value of the waiting game in an argument, the futility of trying to persuade a woman to do something, especially if she shows the least sign of persuading herself. So he said nothing whatever, since
