He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. ‘You will not believe any of my very clever lies. A sinister thought edged in. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him.
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