They were terrible, horrible people. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. Never had he been so intrigued. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. ’ For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration.
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