“I meant it. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. " And thus their domesticity at McClintock's began—with the tubbing of a stray yellow dog. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. I want you. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult. At last she was roused. So that the thought of Ann Veronica up-stairs had been extremely painful for her through all the silent dinner-time that night.
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