She turned to the door; she could not trust herself to shake hands with
composure. Not only was it a nauseous mixture she was forced to gulp
from Victor, it burned like a poison.

'Really Fredi's doing--chiefly,' said Victor, as soon as Dartrey and he
were alone, comfortably settled in the smoking-room. 'I played the man
of pomp with Marsett--good heavy kind of creature: attached to the woman.
She's the better horse, as far as brains go. Good enough Lady Marsett.
I harped on Major Worrell: my daughter insulted. He knew of it--spoke
of you properly. The man offered all apologies; he has told the Major
he is no gentleman, not a fit associate for gentlemen:--quite so--and has
cut him dead. Will marry her, as I said, make her as worthy as he can of
the honour of my daughter's acquaintance. Rather comical grimace, when
he vowed he'd fasten the tie. He doesn't like marriage. But, he can't
give her up. And she's for patronizing the institution. But she is
ready to say good-bye to him "rather than see the truest lady in the
world insulted"--her words. And so he swallows his dose for health,
and looks a trifle sourish. Antecedents, I suppose: has to stomach them.
But if a man's fond of a woman--if he knows he saves her from slipping
lower--and it's an awful world, for us to let a woman be under its
wheels:--I say, a woman who has a man to lean on, unless she's as
downright corrupt as two or three of the men we've known:--upon my word,
Dartrey, I come round to some of your ideas on these matters. It's this
girl of mine, this wee bit of girl in her little nightshirt with the
frill, astonishes me most:--"thinking of the tops of the mountains at
night!" She has positively done the whole of this work-main part.
I smiled when I left the house, to have to own our little Fredi starting
us all on the road. It seems, Marsett had sworn he would; amorous vow,
you know; he never came nearer to doing it. I hope it's his better mind