Joyselle had hurt her, but her treatment of him had so wounded herself
that she could not forgive him. All of which is quite illogical and
quite feminine.
"I will go away--anywhere--to-morrow," she told herself as she ate her
supper. "Theo will not know why, and Felicite will not tell. This sort
of thing cannot go on. This is the fifth row in the last month. We are
both too pig-headed. It's no use trying to keep the peace. I suppose if
I were his mistress he would be easier to manage--or I should. The truth
is, we are both struggling for supremacy, and we can neither of us drive
the other."
Joyselle, with a great effort, chattered gaily throughout the meal. His
thoughts, too, were in a turmoil, for he knew that her apology had been
offered merely on Theo's account, and he also knew that something was
going to happen.
Felicite, sincerely sorry for Brigit and anxious anent Theo, talked more
than usual, so that the uncongenial gathering was more voluble and noisy
than usual.
At its close Felicite called her son to her room under some pretext or
other, and Joyselle and Brigit went alone to his study. He closed the
door very quietly, and then turning to her, caught her hands
threateningly.
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