And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. ” She taunted. “But I am your husband,” he said. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. I do not love any one.
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