Barrett felt no shame.

What fired in him, without any delay, was indignation — the pure animal outrage of a man whose property has trespassed on him.

In his private accounting I was not a wife who had been wronged; I was a variable that had escaped its assigned place and appeared, uninvited, in a part of his life where I was not supposed to be able to reach.

His first true feeling, before he remembered to arrange his face, was that I had done something to him.