‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy. He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. “The most important is that I have a new admirer. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them.
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