"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I never
dreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrifice
this."

Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat and
passively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached and
waning interest.

"I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage has
ceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you was
ever very strong."

Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh.

"It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It is
scarcely surprising that it did not flourish."

Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from his
face. He looked supremely bored.

Lady Brooke moved towards the door.

"It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "A
labourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I."

"Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "A
labourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten her
spirit, and she is considerably the better for it."

His wife stood still, very erect and queenly.