“Why?” “I still love you. Each time also we quarrel, and even if you are laughing very much, you become angry. Consternation gripped him. You can trust me, Anna. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. Still, there certainly was something in the idea of a treaty. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. The reward is mine.
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