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"Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe. I am come to serve you. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. They are their mother’s sons. Men do not understand constancy as women do. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. 70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house.
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