She said- Lawrence, Lawrence, somethings
about!
She took two steps, paused and looked
back.
She looked up at him, and a deeper fear struck at
her-that here was no refuge for her.
He knew that those two noises meantsomething, but
he could not remember what.
Hugh said he would give himself thepleasure of
leaving some flowers sometime.
He had no intention of leaving any duty
unfulfilled-anyduty of exterior act.
He said in a low mumble: Must excuse me
Hugh was runningout of the graves and driving her
on to meet the face. Pauline sprang into herown, and turning looked at Stanhope. But
she opened on him a smile of serenity, saying: And for you.
Wentworth had had anythingto do with her. It went
quickly because it was unending, and it wasalways trying to get to its own end. Her
temperature andher pulse were at first normal, and at first she could not recallthe
night.
You cant do anything; youdidnt see it in the house.
I suppose poets are superfluous in Salem?
Shecried out: Lawrence, its me, its me,
Adela.
She looked up at him, and a deeper fear struck at
her-that here was no refuge for her. He was, and only just; as close to its end as
to the endof the rope.
She asked, looking at him: Do you know how long it
will last?
He sat down and hiscreature crept up to him and
took and nuzzled his hand. Parting was a fact; all facts are joyous; therefore
parting wasjoyous. They gathered round him, and carried him forward in the midstof
them, through a doorway. As shedid so he became aware for the first time that he did
notaltogether want her.
Her temperature andher pulse were at first normal,
and at first she could not recallthe night. But you did know your part, Pauline
answered. It seems so funny to be talkingabout trains in the easier circles of .
Pursued by Hugh in her nightmares, Adela had no sense of ease orpeace in his image.
He did not; his hate and his grudge were personal and obscene.
He himself was moving now;he was hurrying. Her dead
had returned to her; herliving were left without her. But he was in black otherwise;
he had put on a neatfantastic dress of darkness. I suppose poets are superfluous in
Salem?
The shapesstretched out beyond him, all half turned
away, all rigid andsilent. Pauline sprang into herown, and turning looked at
Stanhope. She laughed again at theuseless attempt to explain.