THE WINDOWup her mind. She was uneasy. Had she notlaughed about it? Was she not forgetting againhow strongly she influenced people? Marriageneeded—oh all sorts of qualities (the bill for thegreenhouse would be fifty pounds); one—she neednot name it—that was essential; the thing shehad with her husband. Had they that?

"Then he put on his trousers and ran awaylike a madman," she read. “But outside a greatstorm was raging and blowing so hard that hecould scarcely keep his feet; houses and treestoppled over, the mountains trembled, rocksrolled into the sea, the sky was pitch black, and itthundered and lightened, and the sea came inwith black waves as high as church towers andmountains, and all with white foam at thetop."

She turned the page; there were only a fewlines more, so that she would finish the story,though it was past bed—time. It was gettinglate. The light in the garden told her that; andthe whitening of the flowers and somethinggrey in the leaves conspired together to rousein her a feeling of anxiety. What it was aboutshe could not think at first. Then she remem-bered; Paul and Minta and Andrew had notcome back. She summoned before her againthe little group on the terrace in front of the hallG97
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