He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. The scrutiny of any strange man provoked a sweaty terror. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. “Why did you dare to do that?” Part 3 Each of them stared at the other, set in a universe that had changed its system of values with kaleidoscopic completeness. He was there concealed, waiting her return. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. It cost her seventy-seven dollars. “Nevertheless,” Hill said doggedly, “I am here to speak to you alone.
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