. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. "No. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. Being in a great hurry, he took little heed where he set his feet; and a board giving way, he must have fallen, if he had not grasped a large plank laid upon the transverse beam immediately over his head. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. His voice now had lost its ironies.
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