“A man who does not touch his wife, who ignores his wife, what kind of man is he? I am not sick any more. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a writer, or is trying to be. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. “I am the most foolish of men.
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