Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. It was wonderful. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window.
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