He rose and brought down his hand with a thump.
"You refused him?
Why, you silly little baggage, my condition is that you should marry him.

You're sweet on him aren't you ?" "I detest him," cried Phyllis.

"Why should I marry him ?" Her eyes, young and pure, divined some sordid horror behind eyes crafty and ignoble.

Once before she had had such a fleeting, uncomprehended vision into the murky depths of the man's soul.

This was some time ago.
In the routine of her secretarial duties she had, one morning, opened and read a letter, not marked "Private" or "Personal," whose tenor she could scarcely understand.