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Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. . My nerves were in rags. Lots of us are like that. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. "I eat for both.
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