She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. She cried out his name in ecstasy. Maybe it’s his loss.
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