‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name. You are you. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. ‘But I find you excessively rude, Gérard. "Heaven grant you may have been wrongly informed with respect to Thames!" exclaimed Winifred; "but, I beseech you, on no account to mention what you have told me to my poor father.
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