He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. The doctor would never betray him. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations.
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