Then she went back and mixed up the sheets in a search for particular passages. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. She thought of Capes. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat.
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