They had their little dreams about her. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. They rose as she approached. Beyond that everything was nebulous. . That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. This morning his entourage (as he jestingly called it) consisted of the girl, two spinsters (Prudence and Angelina Jedson), prim and doubtful of the world, and the young man who appeared to be considerably the worse for the alcohol he had consumed. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. “I suppose, daddy, you’ve no objection to my going on with my work at the Imperial College?” she asked. ’ ‘Excellent,’ Gerald had approved. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers.
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