Chapter 11Mercer’s attack upon Mrs. Pole was all the more startling because of its singular unfairness and because it came from such an unexpected source.
“What a woman!” he said. “What an unmitigated, incredible, utterly loathsome piece of vulgar female muck! Didn’t you want to vomit every moment she was in the room? Don’t you hope the car’ll crash while she’s wallowing in unaccustomed luxury and she’ll break her revolting and scaly neck?”
The rest of the gathering regarded him with mild astonishment, a reaction which he appeared to resent intensely. His dark-skinned face became suffused with blood and his light eyes were honest in their hatred.
“You think what you like,” he said, planting his slightly unwieldy body on the arm of a chair. “But—I mean to say, did you listen to her? Did
