Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. “Sir John is not at all that sort. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. He suggested they take the remains of the household to his country estate, where he could at least hunt through the winter to provide them venison and grouse. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. “I shan’t eat him.
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