She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church. ” “Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. CHAPTER II.
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