But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. "We're forgetting," he said. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon.
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