That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself. “It was perhaps my fault. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. Her mind had been and was full of the thought of Capes, a huge generalized Capes-lover. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate.
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