“There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. ’ ‘But you are bleeding like a pig,’ came the frantic response. ” Ennison turned round sharply. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. But the cases were not identical. He continued thoughtfully. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child. “I knew you would feel it,” said Miss Miniver, as they came away flushed and heated.
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