"There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. ‘Typical. But I'm not worrying about that. It’s the sort of way a woman always does gloss over her ethical positions. ‘Must be another of her lies. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. You cannot depart hence. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. She made herself a private declaration of liberty.
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