I pass over that.

I do not know whether you or she was most to blame at the start.

But that woman, in the guise of being her friend, has played on every string of your wife's lonely heart, which you have wrung until it vibrates.
"Then," she hastened on, "came your precious friend Drummond, Drummond who has, no doubt, told you a pack of lies about me.

You see that!" She had flung down on the table a cigarette which she had managed to get at Madame Cassandra's.
"Smoke it." He lighted it gingerly, took a puff or two, puckered his face, frowned, and rubbed the lighted end on the fireplace to extinguish it.
"What is it ?" he asked suspiciously.
"Hashish," she answered tersely.

"Things were not going fast enough to suit either Madame Cassandra or Drummond.