Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. He took about five minutes. Put on that new dress—the one that's all white. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. In any event, I explained that no one lived here and that we’d been called in because of suspected intruders. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered.
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