alk soon, indoors. Not s.
o follo. Not far, nourn into anotained and broken face of ake to be a single great errace of narroc makes me er. Soon urn again, into a lane of cruncanding idly about a bird, s o tug at my sleeve, my cloak, my veil. Rice, turn to take anotier, patime gripping me er, faster, certain of mind t a little furt.
And at last, , tles. te from o one of to dra, so black and foul is it, I suddenly ate, and pull against his grip.
Come on, urning round, not smiling.
Come to where? I ask him.
to your ne ed for you to start it, too long. to our s us. Come, now.—Or shall I leave you here?
ired, her pas-
sages, but tening o let us come, to trap me.
can I do? I cannot go back, alone, to treet, ty. I cannot go back to Sue. I am not meant to. Everyto t. I must go foro exist. I t is ing for me: of ts key t urn; of the bed, on which I shall lie and sleep, and sleep—
I ate, one second more; t o t is s, and ends of sairs, leading dourn, end at a door, on , quick footsteps, a grinding bolt. t. t Richard and nods.
All right? he says.
All rigy o stay.
ting to make out tures beo let us pass tig our backs.
tcs kitc is small, and , and one or table and—perer all, ters—a brazier in a cage, ools about it. Beside ts do-faced, red-ceetrip of dry meat, and dressed—I notice traordinary coat, t seems pieced togeties of fur. s jao keep it from barking. Ric me. and gloves and bonnet. les.
price togs, he says.
t creaks as it tilts—a rike cs it doruggles from , and tonised brazier, t of fur—it is a sleeping, swollen-.
I look at Ric aken ands smiling oddly. Everyone is silent. No-one moves save te- table. Saffeta, t rustles. o me, sands before me, ries to catcures. Ss ill close and terribly eager. red o me, I flinc ill does not is so arange, compels me. I stand and let s it back. And tranger still, h her fingers.
S speaks to Ricears of age, or of emotion.