I told you last night he nearly drove over me.
Living just as he likes, setting an example of devilry to the whole neighbourhood! If I hadn't kept my head he'd have bowled me over like a ninepin, and Bee into the bargain." Mrs.Pendyce sighed.
"It was a narrow escape," she said.
"Divorce him!" resumed Mr.Pendyce--"I should think so! She ought to have divorced him long ago.

It was the nearest thing in the world; another foot and I should have been knocked off my feet!" Mrs.Pendyce withdrew her glance from the ceiling.
"At first," she said, "I wondered whether it was quite--but I'm very glad you've taken it like this." "Taken it! I can tell you, Margery, that sort of thing makes one think.
All the time Barter was preaching last night I was wondering what on earth would have happened to this estate if--if----" And he looked round with a frown.

"Even as it is, I barely make the two ends of it meet.

As to George, he's no more fit at present to manage it than you are; he'd make a loss of thousands." "I'm afraid George is too much in London.

That's the reason I wondered whether--I'm afraid he sees too much of----" Mrs.Pendyce stopped; a flush suffused her cheeks; she had pinched herself violently beneath the bedclothes.
"George," said Mr.Pendyce, pursuing his own thoughts, "has no gumption.
He'd never manage a man like Peacock--and you encourage him! He ought to marry and settle down." Mrs.Pendyce, the flush dying in her cheeks, said: "George is very like poor Hubert." Horace Pendyce drew his watch from beneath his pillow.
"Ah!" But he refrained from adding, "Your people!" for Hubert Totteridge had not been dead a year.