Mrs. Touchett gave a little jump and looked at her almost fiercely. "You needn't tell me; I know what it is."
"I don't know how you know."
"The same way that I know when the window's open—by feeling a draught. You're going to marry that man."
"What man do you mean?" Isabel enquired with great dignity.
"Madame Merle's friend—Mr. Osmond."