You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. ‘You said—who?’ ‘Remenham. I can’t afford to get behind. ” She roused herself from some dream at the word.
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