She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. He said daring things with a grace which made them irresistible, his eyes flashed back upon her some eloquent but silent appreciation of the change in her manner towards him. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. “Take me back. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. ” She was able to go straight to her room without delay, and she at once locked the door with a little sigh of relief.
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