Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. The lovers broke into passionate knowledge of themselves and each other, and then, a jarring intervention, came King Mark amidst the shouts of the sailormen, and stood beside them. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. And this shall be your diet till you die. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor.
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