She bent down. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. It generalized everything she put to it. “I can survive on my own. She studied her form in the full length mirror, assessed 69 her body as one would that of a prize calf, trying to see it through his eyes, through the eyes of desire. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. A creeping numbness invaded her. Look at me. "I am too much honoured—too happy in the union. We needn’t try and give ourselves airs. ” “And the man stands as the master at the mouth of the den.
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