Then she stood up and looked around the room. “What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely. It was bleeding again. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. ” She looked thoughtfully into the fire.
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