Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. 70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. You are infatuated. ‘And for you, monsieur le major, it will be well if you do not make me a shock like this again. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you happiness. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. ” She answered. "It is an ordinary wedding," he added; "some shopkeeper's daughter.
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