But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Any one very badly moved choked down a few mouthfuls; the symptom of supreme distress was not to be able to touch a bit. Wood, contemptuously. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl.
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