human
She stopped for a moment on the top step and unfastened her latch-key--she used to carry it tied to her bag with a bit of ribbon;--I found it in my hand the next moment, and she was saying good-bye and telling me quite casually that she wasn't coming back. Grayle--he didn't even trouble to come out of the smoking-room. What it was about I can't say, but they must have had an unholy row. Guy looked at me dubiously, weighing my discretion.
gpt
I suppose, now that it's all over, there's no harm in saying that rows were the rule rather than the exception.... Right from the earliest days, when she used to come and dine here or he took her out. I don't know how either thought they could possibly live in the same house. Of course, she fascinated him, he conceded with the gusto of a Promenade _habitué_,
human
That's well-established, is it?
gpt
I believe so. Well, he naturally wanted to protect Mrs. O'Rane. _She_ treated it as a joke, until he swore he'd never see her again. (He was always saying it, but this time he meant it.) Then she got frightened. First she rang up,--and he ignored her; she wrote,--and he didn't answer her letters; called,--and he refused to see her. The next thing was complete surrender. Guy Bannerman spread out his hands and shrugged his shoulders.
human
You _can't_ compound a common life of _that_ sort of storm and sunshine. Grayle found that, if he wanted to get his way,--well, he didn't actually take a stick to her, but it was the next best thing.
gpt
Go on,
human
Well, he was gradually breaking her spirit, killing all her charm; and then I really think that he began to get tired of her. They were wearing each other out, and you couldn't expect her to be mewed up inside the house, and people were beginning to talk.... I've told you pretty well all I know.