The Mettle of the Pasture. James Lane Allen

Rowan must not come here any more." Isabel stopped abruptly. "That is all."

      … "I merely wanted you to understand this at once. We must not invite him here any more."

      … "If we meet him at the houses of our friends, we must do what we can not to be discourteous to them if he is their guest."

      … "If we meet Rowan alone anywhere, we must let him know that he is not on the list of our acquaintances any longer. That is all."

      Isabel wrung her hands.

      Mrs. Conyers had more than one of the traits of the jungle: she knew when to lie silent and how to wait. She waited longer now, but Isabel had relapsed into her own thoughts. For her the interview was at an end; to Mrs. Conyers it was beginning. Isabel's words and manner had revealed a situation far more serious than she had believed to exist. A sense of personal slights and wounds gave way to apprehension. The need of the moment was not passion and resentment, but tact and coolness and apparent unconcern.