Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. She saw herself building up a life upon that —a life restrained, kindly, beautiful, a little pathetic and altogether dignified; a life of great disciplines and suppressions and extensive reserves. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. “I mean to go to that dance! I meant to reason with you, but you won’t reason. "The poor young man!" she said. ‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind. . A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured.
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