CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together. The young man had knocked over the siphon. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. He would have to make sure of her silence. That is where I first knew him. A large dog was then set at him by a stable-boy; but, striking the animal with his faithful iron-bar, he speedily sent him yelping back. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows.
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