It wouldn’t be you. 70
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A MARRIAGE, PART II
She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her
suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had
angrily toted her to after the incident at the country
house. The latter formed by far
the most knavish-looking and unprepossessing portion of the assemblage. She had all the fascination of being absolutely
perplexing in this respect. He touched it again, and this time it was not
withdrawn. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had
found his man. “I am much obliged to you,” he said. “Solitary walks?”
“That’s the point of them. "Sir Rowland," he added, savagely, and with somewhat of the look of a
bull-dog before he flies at his foe, "if it were my pleasure to do so, I could crush
you with a breath. "
"I don't know," said McClintock. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. His
voice now had lost its ironies.
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