He began to tell me something—and stopped. Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. A woman has a perfect right to choose her own husband, but Nigel seemed to think that there was something a little mysterious about your treatment of him. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. She came into the room. He glanced at his watch.
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