It's the smell of blood," she continued; "I don't blame 'em; only they shan't have mind if I know it!" She looked about her as if she had called up a legion of human beings, all hostile and all disagreeable, who encircled the table, with mouths gaping for blood, and made it appear a little island of neutral country in the midst of the enemy's country.
Her words roused her husband, who had been muttering rhythmically to himself, surveying his guests and his food and his wife with eyes that were now melancholy and now fierce, according to the fortunes of the lady in his ballad.

He cut Helen short with a protest.

He hated even the semblance of cynicism in women.

"Nonsense, nonsense," he remarked abruptly.
Terence and Rachel glanced at each other across the table, which meant that when they were married they would not behave like that.

The entrance of Ridley into the conversation had a strange effect.