His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. ‘She may well try to go back. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. F. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. I was one of the few. “That’s the point. ‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. " But Spurlock put up his guard.
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