May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. In his desire to be emphatic and to avenge himself for his over-night distresses, he speedily became brutal, more brutal than she had ever known him before. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult.
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