. CHAPTER XIII. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. “Will you tell me what all this is about?” said Capes. "I've set a trap for him. Three a week is my allowance, and, if I get short ones, four. I’ll do it. “We banished his experiments to here in the basement from then on. Observe it—a blue-serge coat. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again.
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