She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. ” “And I,” Courtlaw said, “although I have asked before in vain, have come to ask you once more the same thing. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side.
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