Not to know what it would represent on a longer view was a help, in turn, to not making out that her hands were embrued; since if she had stood in the position of a producing cause she should surely be less vague about what she had produced.

This, further, in its way, was a step toward reflecting that when one's connection with any matter was too indirect to be traced it might be described also as too slight to be deplored.

By the time they were nearing Cadogan Place she had in fact recognised that she couldn't be as curious as she desired without arriving at some conviction of her being as innocent.

But there had been a moment, in the dim desert of Eaton Square, when she broke into speech.
"It's only their defending themselves so much more than they need--it's only THAT that makes me wonder.

It's their having so remarkably much to say for themselves." Her husband had, as usual, lighted his cigar, remaining apparently as busy with it as she with her agitation.