But she'll bolt as soon as look at you, and she's awfully hard to hold." Her fingers were twitching with the desire to hold Scarum.
"I think I can manage her." "You see, somehow or the other I like talking to you.

You may be a sinner, but I don't think you are a fool; and I've a sort of a notion that you understand." He was silent.

So many women had thought he understood.
"I wonder--_do_ you understand!" The eyes that Mrs.Nevill Tyson turned on Stanistreet were not search-lights; they were wells of darkness, unsearchable, unfathomable.
Something in Stanistreet, equally inscrutable, something that was himself and not himself, answered very low to that vague appeal.
"Yes, I understand." He had turned towards her, smiling darkly, and all her face flashed back a happy smile.
Surely, oh surely, Mrs.Nevill Tyson was the soul of indiscretion; for at that moment Miss Batchelor, trotting past with Lady Morley, looked from them to her companion and smiled too.
That smile was the first stone.
Miss Batchelor acknowledged them with a curt little nod, and Mrs.
Nevill Tyson's face became instantly overclouded.

Louis leaned a little nearer and said in a husky, uneven voice, "Surely you don't mind that impertinent woman ?" "Not a bit," said Mrs.Nevill Tyson.

"She's got a villainous seat." "Then what are you thinking about ?" "I'm thinking what horrid hard lines it is that they won't let me hunt.
All the time I might have been flying across country with Nevill, instead of--" "Instead of crawling in a dog-cart with me.