" "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. I didn't understand then, but I do now. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. You and I. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
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