Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. One studies Nature in order not to be blindly ruled by her.
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