He must not try to tear her into recognition of himself, and agreement with himself.

It were disastrous, impious. So, let him rage as he might, he must withhold himself. But his wrists trembled and seemed mad, seemed as if they would burSt. When, in November, the leaves came beating against the window shutters, with a lashing sound, he started, and his eyes flickered with flame. The dog looked up at him, he sunk his head to the fire. But his wife was startled. He was aware of her listening.

“They blow up with a rattle,” he said.

“What?” she asked.

“The leaves.”

She sank away again. The strange leaves beating in the wind on the wood had come nearer