He only laughed his defiance. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness.
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