Poor Mrs.
Nevill Tyson, she had put his idea into words.

She had suggested that there was a difference, and suggestion is a fatal thing to an unsteady mind.

In that moment of fearful introspection he said to himself that it was all very well for her to say there was no difference.

There was a difference.

She was not exactly lying on a bed of roses; but in the nature of things her lot was easier than his.