But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. This time she tried to kill me with a dagger. He groped her buttocks. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion.
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