"That's why I don't go," said Isabel simply—yet not very lucidly.
Ralph understood well enough, however. "I should think so, with all those occupations you speak of."
"It isn't that. I'm afraid," said Isabel. After a pause she repeated, as if to make herself, rather than him,hear the words: "I'm afraid."
Ralph could hardly tell what her tone meant; it was so strangely deliberate—apparently so void of emotion. Did she wish to do public penance for a fault of which she had not been convicted? or were her words simply an attempt at enlightened self-analysis?However this might be, Ralph could not resist so easy an opportunity. "Afraid of your husband?"