Sir John hesitated. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. She can't last long. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. It was clear by the look on her face that she decided to leave the house immediately. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne. Quite ordinary. ‘And I am thinking now that you may be very suitable. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. . Wood trembled.
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