She dropped her hands quickly. "No, you've taken your revenge otherwise—you have taken it on her."
Osmond threw back his head further; he looked a while at the ceiling and might have been supposed to be appealing, in an informal way, to the heavenly powers. "Oh, the imagination of women! It's always vulgar, at bottom. You talk of revenge like a third-rate novelist."
"Of course you haven't complained. You've enjoyed your triumph too much."
"I'm rather curious to know what you call my triumph."