Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. “I’d sooner condemn you to Hell. Of course, why not? She would be honest, anyhow! She turned her eyes to Manning. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. You shall know the truth.
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