If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. ‘But that will do for a start. The boy would naturally attract the women, if the women were at all romantic. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. Is there anything you'd like?" "Books. Rowland," she added, in an altered tone, "I am certain I shall not live many days. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. ‘You’re not going to kill me this time. ’ ‘That,’ said Gosse, ‘is a matter of opinion. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. Never mind.
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