“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. Indeed, he told me nothing at all. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. En tout cas, I am not trespassing at all. Nor was he long in making it available. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill.
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