She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. . He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. This was good. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. He drew a little sigh of relief.
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