She had fallen back in her chair, and was meeting his attack with the steady, candid look that betrayed her character.

She was now entirely self-possessed--neither nervous nor angry.
The Squire changed his tone.

Folding his arms, he leant against a pedestal which supported a bust of a Roman emperor.
'Very well, then--I _will_ explain.

I told you yesterday of a step I proposed to take by way of testing how far the invasion of personal freedom had gone in this country.

I was perfectly justified in taking it.