She was back in Bournemouth, and listening to "_Maman's_ air." It haunted her and rang in her head; and yet, underneath, a wild excitement coursed in her blood.
A knock then came to the door, and when Henrietta answered it Tristram passed her by and stepped into his lady's room.
Zara turned round like a startled fawn, and then her expression changed to one of anger and hauteur.
He was already dressed for dinner, and held a great bunch of gardenias in his hand.

He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the exquisite picture she made, and he drew in his breath.

He had not known hair could be so long; he had not realized she was so beautiful.

And she was his wife! "Darling!" he gasped, oblivious of even the maid, who had the discretion to retire quickly to the bathroom beyond.

"Darling, how beautiful you are! You drive me perfectly mad." Zara held on to the dressing-table and almost crouched, like a panther ready to spring.
"How dare you come into my room like this! Go!" she said.
It was as if she had struck him.