He is not in a state of mind to bear it. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. . They went to the gate and stopped there, gabbed with their men, and didn’t even dismount. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. He reached for her, and she struck savagely. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. While I am talking about your friends, I feel—I think you ought to know how I look at it.
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