She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. I never could. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms.
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