Nevertheless, he went on reading, or pretending to read, as long as the continuance of the breakfast made it certain that his wife would remain with him. Every now and then he said some word to her of what he was reading, endeavouring to use the tone of voice that was customary to him in his domestic teachings of politics. But through it all there was a certain hesitation,--there were the sure signs of an attempt being made, of which he was himself conscious, and which she understood with the most perfect accuracy. He was deferring the evil moment, and vainly endeavouring to make himself believe that he was comfortably employed the while. She had no newspaper, and made no endeavour to deceive herself. She, therefore, was the first to begin the conversation.
"Plantagenet," she said, "you told me last night, as I was going to bed, that you had something to say about Lady Monk's party."
He put down the newspaper slowly, and turned towards her. "Yes, my dear. After what happened, I believe that I must say something."

Nevertheless, he went on pretending to read. Every now and then he said some word to her of what he was reading, trying to use his usual tone of voice. But there was a certain hesitation - a sign of effort - of which he was himself conscious, and which she understood with perfect accuracy. He was putting off the evil moment. She, therefore, was the first to begin the conversation.
"Plantagenet," she said, "you told me last night that you had something to say about Lady Monk's party."
He put down the newspaper slowly, and turned towards her. "Yes, my dear."
