e, for time.
t on or draill, t Briar, t is spotted er. S is turned to t taking up my linen, my sting tined for London, t, as s is o co see ticoat, a pair of stockings or so kno to take, in case ts are cool. No and ttle of drops, my gloves) s her bag.
And one ot s kno Briar, ed tooth.
t . oo tall for tilting ep outside, retc to my room so long, to me. I t give it up—give it up, for ever!—I tate.
Noiment.
t, as more tter of galloping urning journey, iles, from to Briar: I put my face to the window
as t expect to see tcill, I kno. But, t er. It ics, only. t in bare earts door—tall floips like spikes.
I fall back in my seat. Ricches my eye.
Dont be afraid, he says.
take o tands before me at t.
ait, I are you doing? tlemen! Gentlemen!—an odd and formal phrase.
tors speak in sootones, until so curse; tilts, tilted, earing from its pins. e. her look is wild, already.
like a stone, until Ricakes my arm and presses, .
Speak, , clear, mechanically:
Oress! darker fleck. umbling is breaking!
to ring about ter Rico life and turned us. e do not speak. Beside Ric I see ill struggling, lifting o point or reacrees. I take off my to tcrembling hands.
ell— he says.
Dont speak to me, I say, almost spitting to me, I shall kill you.
tempts to smile. But rangely and ly one lengtakes a cigarette from , and a matcries to dra come. aggers, beats upon to stop t o ts o t imes. I ch him.
akes again, you are now.
And h a sneer.
turns s ting cusends, co sleep.
My oay open. I gaze t travelled—a , like a t.
e make part of our journey like t t give up take a train. I rain before. e at a country station. e at an inn, since Ricill afraid t my uncle men to c us in a private room and bring me tea and bread-and-butter. I look at tray. tea groands at ttles t, ts out: God damn you, do you take food for you, for free? s tter , aft