She dropped the exercise-book upon the table; and pressing both hands upon her face, she drew them apart, against her cheeks and eyebrows, stretching the soft skin tight in a grotesque distortion. When her hands fell, after this, he noticed that the anger had gone out of her. Her expression had become gentle and sad.

“What’s that?” she said, in a low voice, pointing to Mr. Urquhart’s manuscript. Wolf hurriedly stooped down and picked up Hydriotaphia . He caught sight of the feather, lying safe between the leaves, as he put it on the table.

“The History of Dorset ,” he said eagerly. “That awful book, you know.”

He tried to speak facetiously.