His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. . Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded his arms across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes of his patient. Where was the expected message from this captain, who had promised to send her word at the instant Gerald returned to town. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. It occasionally troubled the major that Hilary’s staunch loyalty had led him into hair-raising exploits at Gerald’s side, for he was perfectly aware that Hilary would not have dreamed of deserting him. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. So long as they're about, I'll always be rewriting them and wasting my time.
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