Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. . A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. ’ He looked the girl up and down. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly.
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