I would that you were my own. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. I didn’t! I didn’t! After all—” For a time her mind ran on daintiness and its defensive restraints as though it was the one desirable thing. “Never was such an age of transition. “What can you do?” she asked. As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning in the study; so she stopped at the door. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling us. That might happen on her birthday—in August. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success.
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