“It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open.
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