It was a sorry sight.

Where she had left a reception-room such as any suburban lady in moderate circumstances might be proud of; she now beheld a mere mass of unrecognisable furniture, heaped on what had once been a carpet, amid dripping walls and under a grimed ceiling.
'Oh! Oh!' She all but sank before the horror of the spectacle.

Then, in a voice of fierce conviction, 'She did it! _She_ did it! It was because I told her to leave.

I _know_ she did it on purpose!' Mumford closed the door of the room, shutting out Cobb and the cook and the housemaid.

He repeated the story Cobb had told him, and quietly urged the improbability of his wife's explanation.