“And you let such a thing as that come between you and—­and—­Piers!” There was incredulous amazement in Ina’s voice.  “You actually had the—­the—­the presumption!” Coherent words suddenly seemed to fail her, but she went on regardless, not caring how they came.  “A man like Piers,—­a—­a—­Triton like that,—­such a being as is only turned out once in—­in a dozen centuries!  Oh, fool!  Fool!” She clenched her hands, and beat them impotently upon her lap.  “What did it matter what he’d done?  He was yours.  He worshipped you.  And the worship of a man like Piers must be—­must be—­” She broke off, one hand caught convulsively to her throat; then swallowed hard and rushed on.  “You sent him away, did you?  You wouldn’t live with him any longer?  My God!  Piers!” Again her throat worked spasmodically, and she controlled it with fierce effort.  “He won’t stay true to you of course,” she said, more quietly.  “You don’t expect that, do you?  You can’t care—­since you wouldn’t stick to him.  You’ve practically forced him into the mire.  I sometimes think that one virtuous woman can do more harm in the world than a dozen of the other sort.  You’ve embittered him for life.  You’ve made him suffer horribly.  I expect you’ve suffered too.  I hope you have!  But your sorrows are not to be compared with his.  He has red blood in his veins, but you’re too attenuated with goodness to know what real suffering means.  You had the whole world in your grasp and you threw it away for a whim, just because you were too small, too contemptibly mean, to understand.  You thought you loved him, I daresay.  Well, you didn’t.  Love is a very different thing.  Love never casts away.  But of course you can’t understand that.  You are one of those women who keep down all the blinds lest the sunshine should fade their souls.  You don’t know even the beginnings of Love!”

Passionately she uttered the words, but in a voice pitched so low that Avery only just caught them.  And having uttered them almost in the same breath, she took up the speaking-tube and addressed the chauffeur.

Avery sat quite still and silent.  She felt as if she had been attacked and completely routed by a creature considerably smaller, but infinitely more virile, more valiant, than herself.

Ina did not speak to her again for several minutes.  She threw herself back against the cushion with an oddly petulant gesture, and leaned there staring moodily out.

Then, as they neared their starting-point, she sat up and spoke again with a species of bored indifference.  “Of course it’s no affair of mine.  I don’t care two straws how you treat him.  But surely you’ll try and give him some sort of send-off?  I wouldn’t let even Dick go without that.”

Even Dick!  There was a world of revelation in those words.  Avery’s heart stirred again in pity, and still her indignation slumbered.

They reached the shop before which Gracie was waiting for them, and stopped.