Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. "Why it is astonishing, certainly," remarked Kneebone, "to find any woman constant—especially to a girlish attachment; but such is the case. But it's French manners, I suppose. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had remained so long a secret to him. And will you look! His name neatly cut out from each title page. He had a wild impulse to shout. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat.
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