She laughed more than she ought to have done. This was a bad sign with her. Once or twice, when the three of us dined together, and she was almost noisy over the benedictine, I could have choked Jack Drayton, for he didn't see.
It's not a pretty thing for an outsider to sit _a_trois_, and see things in a wife's manner that the husband doesn't or won't see; and worse than that, to know that the wife knows you see it and that he doesn't. Speak to Jack? I wouldn't have done it for worlds. As I said, I'm willing to burn my fingers and even cuddle the hurt; but I don't meddle with giant firecrackers except on the Fourth of July, and that didn't come until afterward.
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