Irenewassoft，surelyshewoulddothisforhim，subduehernaturalshrinking，soonerthangivehimpain！Thelessonsmustcontinue；foriftheydid，hewassecure。Andlightinghiscigaratlast，hebegantryingtoshapeouthowtoputittothemall，andexplainthisstrangeintimacy；howtoveilandwrapitawayfromthenakedtruth——thathecouldnotbeartobedeprivedofthesightofbeauty。Ah！Holly！Hollywasfondofher，Hollylikedherlessons。Shewouldsavehim——hislittlesweet！Andwiththathappythoughthebecameserene，andwonderedwhathehadbeenworryingaboutsofearfully。Hemustnotworry，itlefthimalwayscuriouslyweak，andasifbuthalfpresentinhisownbody。
Thateveningafterdinnerhehadareturnofthedizziness，thoughhedidnotfaint。Hewouldnotringthebell，becauseheknewitwouldmeanafuss，andmakehisgoinguponthemorrowmoreconspicuous。Whenonegrewold，thewholeworldwasinconspiracytolimitfreedom，andforwhatreason?——justtokeepthebreathinhimalittlelonger。Hedidnotwantitatsuchcost。OnlythedogBalthasarsawhislonelyrecoveryfromthatweakness；anxiouslywatchedhismastergotothesideboardanddrinksomebrandy，insteadofgivinghimabiscuit。WhenatlastoldJolyonfeltabletotacklethestairshewentuptobed。And，thoughstillshakynextmorning，thethoughtoftheeveningsustainedandstrengthenedhim。Itwasalwayssuchapleasuretogiveheragooddinner——hesuspectedherofundereatingwhenshewasalone；and，attheoperatowatchhereyesglowandbrighten，theunconscioussmilingofherlips。Shehadn’tmuchpleasure，andthiswasthelasttimehewouldbeabletogiveherthattreat。Butwhenhewaspackinghisbaghecaughthimselfwishingthathehadnotthefatigueofdressingfordinnerbeforehim，andtheexertion，too，oftellingheraboutJune’sreturn。
Theoperathateveningwas’Carmen，’andhechosethelastentr’actetobreakthenews，instinctivelyputtingitofftillthelatestmoment。
Shetookitquietly，queerly；infact，hedidnotknowhowshehadtakenitbeforethewaywardmusicliftedupagainandsilencebecamenecessary。Themaskwasdownoverherface，thatmaskbehindwhichsomuchwentonthathecouldnotsee。Shewantedtimetothinkitover，nodoubt！Hewouldnotpressher，forshewouldbecomingtogiveherlessonto-morrowafternoon，andheshouldseeherthenwhenshehadgotusedtotheidea。InthecabhetalkedonlyoftheCarmen；hehadseenbetterintheolddays，butthisonewasnotbadatall。Whenhetookherhandtosaygood-night，shebentquicklyforwardandkissedhisforehead。”Good-bye，dearUncleJolyon，youhavebeensosweettome。””To-morrowthen，”hesaid。”Good-night。Sleepwell。”Sheechoedsoftly：”Sleepwelll”andfromthecabwindow，alreadymovingaway，hesawherfacescrewedroundtowardshim，andherhandputoutinagesturewhichseemedtolinger。
Hesoughthisroomslowly。Theynevergavehimthesame，andhecouldnotgetusedtothese’spick-and-spandy’bedroomswithnewfurnitureandgrey-greencarpetssprinkledalloverwithpinkroses。HewaswakefulandthatwretchedHabanerakeptthrobbinginhishead。