For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire. After all there are other things. “You!” she exclaimed. It was wonderful. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. Mr. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark.
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