” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. “I’ve fallen in love. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. “Mr. Wood; "I can't for an instant question such distinterested testimony. Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes.
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