’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. She answered him with another kiss, long and deep. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. Will I meet you there?’ ‘Yes, yes, I shall await you. "Only sprained it a little, that's all," answered Thames; "the pain will go off presently. I think too much about myself.
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