Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. She awoke and found herself home amid a pile of three bodies, one of which she recognized as a former denizen of the household. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know. He looked no longer at his wife. But as the students sat about Miss Garvice’s tea-pot and drank tea or smoked cigarettes, the talk got away from Capes. He laughed to hide his uneasiness. Afterward her brother Roddy, also strange in velveteen, feeling rather than knowing of this relationship, punched this Adonis’s head.
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