But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. She had money of her own—much more than I have—and there was no need to squabble about that. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her.
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