“Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. Did he talk a little when you took him into the city?" "No. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. John eased off. “Well, you know. It would make my wife very happy. She winked at him as he shut the door. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it.
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