‘You see, it is that I am a female, and you all are men. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. It was easy to imagine great power in such a man. This lady was singularly lucky in her matrimonial connections. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him.
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