That’s all. She confronted him with his own double-standard. Wood, disdainfully. In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me. . Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. "The doctor said something about that. The light would betray us. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color.
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