It worked. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. We hide it bravely, but so it is. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man.
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