Was it the clumsiness of a butterfly or the dexterity of a woman?
Once or twice he thought he detected a certain reluctant shyness in approaching the subject directly.

It was as if she regarded her affection for her husband as a youthful folly, and her marriage as a discreditable episode of which she was now ashamed.
On the other hand, she was always ready to talk about Stanistreet and his doings.

She would listen for hours to his mess-room stories, his descriptions of the people and the places he had seen, the engagements he had taken part in.

For a whole evening one Sunday they had talked about nothing but fortification.

Now it was impossible that Mrs.Nevill Tyson could be interested in fortification.