Page:The Painted Veil - Maugham - 1925.djvu/263

 She shifted her feet a little so that she should not touch him.

“Are you still angry with me?” he asked, the shadow of a smile on his lips and his eyes melting.

“Not a bit,” she laughed.

“I don’t think you’d laugh if you weren’t.”

“You’re mistaken; I despise you much too much to be angry with you.”

He was unruffled.

“I think you’re rather hard on me. Looking back calmly, don’t you honestly think I was right?”

“From your standpoint.”

“Now that you know Dorothy, you must admit she’s rather nice?”

“Of course. I shall always be grateful for her great kindness to me.”

“She’s one in a thousand. I should never have had a moment’s peace if we’d bolted. It would have been a rotten trick to play on her. And after all I had to think of my children; it would have been an awful handicap for them.”

For a minute she held him in her reflective gaze. She felt completely mistress of the situation.

“I’ve watched you very carefully during the week I’ve been here. I’ve come to the conclusion that you really are fond of Dorothy. I should never have thought you capable of it.”

“I told you I was fond of her. I wouldn’t do anything to cause her a moment’s uneasiness. She’s the best wife a man ever had.”

“Have you never thought that you owed her any loyalty?”