‘I am perfectly devoted to him, as well he knows. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. A nurse came hurrying up. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would.
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