The woman's tone, if possible, grew colder.
"I hope you are not going to tell me that you have disobeyed my orders," she said.
"No," he protested, "no! I was there yesterday.

I came back by the mail from Penzance.

I had to motor thirty miles to catch it." "Something has happened, of course," she went on, "something which you are afraid to tell 'me.

Sit up like a man, my dear father, and let me have the truth." "Nothing fresh has happened at all," he assured her.

"It is simply that the memory of the day I spent at that place and that the sight of him has got on my nerves till I can't sleep or think of anything else." "What rubbish!" she exclaimed.
"You have only seen the place in fine weather," he continued, dropping his voice a little.