Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck.
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