I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. . “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. . Some day I may forgive you; but not now. He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel.
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