Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. I intend to remain very serious indeed while I’m doing it. Wood the best of wives. “I should think YOU could do all sorts of things. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. He wanted to talk with the patient, test him variously; and he wanted to be alone with him while he put these tests. I do swear.
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