I might forgive him that, for he obviously taught her a good deal that she has found useful. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. Do help me, Lady Ferringhall. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. Her aunt glanced up startled, and then sat very still, with hands that had ceased to work. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion.
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