" "Why, my love," rejoined her husband, "appearances, you must allow, were a little against you. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on.
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