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. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. "How long shall I be here?" he asked. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. For a moment, Kneebone had hesitated about giving the signal to Shotbolt, but, thinking a more favourable opportunity might occur, he determined not to hazard matters by undue precipitation. Cathy opened her beauty shop, you know. . He was disquieted. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man.
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