6/9 The lamp was burning in Mr.Stone's room, and his window was, as usual, open; that which was not usual, however, was a light in Hilary's own bedroom. Through the door-ajar-he saw, to his surprise, the figure of his wife. She was reclining in a chair, her elbows on its arms, the tips of her fingers pressed together. Her face, with its dark hair, vivid colouring, and sharp lines, was touched with shadows, her head turned as though towards somebody beside her; her neck gleamed white. |