Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. Some of your sex, I mean. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. . ” 224 < 28 > RHEA AND THE ORACLE She went inside the house, thinking of Sebastian, worrying. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. She—She can snub him. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. Do not imagine that I cannot do so, as well as I can this Gérard. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked.
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