If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. It appeared from what he said that he had been captured when asleep,—that his liquor had been drugged,—otherwise, he would never have allowed himself to be taken alive. She was tempted to touch him in the car as they drove to the empty house, but she refrained for fear of causing a car accident.
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