She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. We aren’t afraid; we don’t bother. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. She laughed a little contemptuously. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him.
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