Page 124 (1/2)

Instantly, it was only a silly laain And

dark, violent hatred of her husband swept up in her What was he

doing, sitting there glea, carried away, soulful?

She shifted sharply, she knocked hi his feet

He came to, rather bewildered, exposed Anybody but her would

have pitied him She wanted to rend hi

As they sat at dinner, in their cottage, he was dazed by the

chill of antagonisry But she was incensed

"Why do you never listen to the ser

with hostility and violation

"I do," he said

"You don't--you don't hear a single word"

He retired into hi subterranean about hiirl hated to be in the house with him when he

was like this

After dinner, he retired into the parlour, continuing in the

same state of abstraction, which was a burden intolerable to

her Then he went to the book-shelf and took down books to look

at, that she had scarcely glanced over

He sat absorbed over a book on the illus in churches: Italian,

English, French and German He had, when he was sixteen,

discovered a Ros

He turned the leaves in absorption, absorbed in looking, not

thinking He was like a man whose eyes were in his chest, she

said of his with him Half they fascinated