As it was she was the derision of all decent people, of all people who had been properly brought up and knew what was in good taste and of good morality.
First it was the Dowager who poured forth, and then it was Sir Nigel.

They broke in on each other, they interrupted one another with exclamations and interpolations.

They had so far lost themselves that they did not know they became grotesque in the violence of their fury.
Rosalie's brain whirled.

Her hysteria mounted and mounted.

She stared first at one and then at the other, gasping and sobbing by turns; she swayed on her feet and clutched at a chair.
"I did not know," she broke forth at last, trying to make her voice heard in the storm.