It was full two hours earlier than the period of his usual return home.
He had seen the expression of Hendrickson's countenance; and also the responsive change in that of his wife.

At once it occurred to him that an understanding had been established between him and Mrs.
Dexter, and that this was the beginning of a series of interviews, to be carried on during his absence.

Mr.Dexter was an impulsive man.

Without giving himself time for reflection, he strode into the parlor, and said with a cutting sneer-- "You have your own entertainments, I see, in your husband's absence.
But"-- and his manner grew stern, while his tones were threatening, "you must not forget that we are in America and not Paris; and that I am an American, and not a French husband.

You are going a step too far, madam!" Too much confounded for speech, Mrs.Dexter, into whose face the blood had rushed, dying it to a deep crimson, sat looking at her husband, an image, in his eyes, of guilt confessed.
"I warn you," he added, "not to presume on me in this direction! And I further warn you, that if I ever catch that scoundrel in my house, or in your company, I will shoot him down like a dog!" Mrs.Dexter was too feeble for a shock like this.