Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. But I know a little place where we’ll get a little quiet talk. ‘If you had told him that I would rather die than see him, he would not have come. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. . But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. “You are in trouble,” he said. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. When it came time to eat once again, she hid out on the beach, a remote fastness beyond the city walls, a swampy morass that everyone avoided.
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