She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. ’ Gerald eyed her. Then they appear among the lower things”—she made meticulous gestures to figure the scale of life; she seemed to be holding up specimens, and peering through her glasses at them —“among crustaceans and things, just as little creatures, ever so inferior to the females. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. And from that they came back by way of the Kreutzer Sonata and Resurrection to Tolstoy again. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established.
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