Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. It is no good going into that. No, never mind about thanking me. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. Anna had told me that he carried always with him this bogus marriage certificate. But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. . " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. “Don’t!” she begged.
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