CHAPTER I. " No sooner had Wood crept through the window, than nature gave way, and he fainted. Tristan dying and Isolde coming to crown his death. The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had come times when shrieking would have relieved her. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. “How are you feeling?” She asked. It was not simply that all the rooms were rearranged and everybody dressed in unusual fashions, and all the routines of life abolished and put away: people’s tempers and emotions also seemed strangely disturbed and shifted about. " She wanted to dance.
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