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“
Is
it
true
that
she
didn
’
t
wish
the
letters
to
be
published
?
”
Glennard
felt
the
sudden
dizziness
of
the
mountaineer
on
a
narrow
ledge
,
and
with
it
the
sense
that
he
was
lost
if
he
looked
more
than
a
step
ahead
.
“
I
’
m
sure
I
don
’
t
know
,
”
he
said
;
then
,
summoning
a
smile
,
he
passed
his
hand
through
her
arm
.
“
I
didn
’
t
have
tea
at
the
Dreshams
,
you
know
;
won
’
t
you
give
me
some
now
?
”
he
suggested
.
That
evening
Glennard
,
under
pretext
of
work
to
be
done
,
shut
himself
into
the
small
study
opening
off
the
drawing
-
room
.
As
he
gathered
up
his
papers
he
said
to
his
wife
:
“
You
’
re
not
going
to
sit
indoors
on
such
a
night
as
this
?
I
’
ll
join
you
presently
outside
.
”
But
she
had
drawn
her
armchair
to
the
lamp
.
“
I
want
to
look
at
my
book
,
”
she
said
,
taking
up
the
first
volume
of
the
“
Letters
.
”
Glennard
,
with
a
shrug
,
withdrew
into
the
study
.
“
I
’
m
going
to
shut
the
door
;
I
want
to
be
quiet
,
”
he
explained
from
the
threshold
;
and
she
nodded
without
lifting
her
eyes
from
the
book
.
He
sank
into
a
chair
,
staring
aimlessly
at
the
outspread
papers
.
How
was
he
to
work
,
while
on
the
other
side
of
the
door
she
sat
with
that
volume
in
her
hand
?
The
door
did
not
shut
her
out
—
he
saw
her
distinctly
,
felt
her
close
to
him
in
a
contact
as
painful
as
the
pressure
on
a
bruise
.
The
sensation
was
part
of
the
general
strangeness
that
made
him
feel
like
a
man
waking
from
a
long
sleep
to
find
himself
in
an
unknown
country
among
people
of
alien
tongue
.
We
live
in
our
own
souls
as
in
an
unmapped
region
,
a
few
acres
of
which
we
have
cleared
for
our
habitation
;
while
of
the
nature
of
those
nearest
us
we
know
but
the
boundaries
that
march
with
ours
.
Of
the
points
in
his
wife
’
s
character
not
in
direct
contact
with
his
own
,
Glennard
now
discerned
his
ignorance
;
and
the
baffling
sense
of
her
remoteness
was
intensified
by
the
discovery
that
,
in
one
way
,
she
was
closer
to
him
than
ever
before
.
As
one
may
live
for
years
in
happy
unconsciousness
of
the
possession
of
a
sensitive
nerve
,
he
had
lived
beside
his
wife
unaware
that
her
individuality
had
become
a
part
of
the
texture
of
his
life
,
ineradicable
as
some
growth
on
a
vital
organ
;
and
he
now
felt
himself
at
once
incapable
of
forecasting
her
judgment
and
powerless
to
evade
its
effects
.
To
escape
,
the
next
morning
,
the
confidences
of
the
breakfast
-
table
,
he
went
to
town
earlier
than
usual
.
His
wife
,
who
read
slowly
,
was
given
to
talking
over
what
she
read
,
and
at
present
his
first
object
in
life
was
to
postpone
the
inevitable
discussion
of
the
letters
.
This
instinct
of
protection
in
the
afternoon
,
on
his
way
uptown
,
guided
him
to
the
club
in
search
of
a
man
who
might
be
persuaded
to
come
out
to
the
country
to
dine
.
The
only
man
in
the
club
was
Flamel
.
