If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath. “I don’t want you to do it, to go on talking to me. It's almost worth while being sent to prison to have the pleasure of escaping. ‘And so also have I. ” John said. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. Surely it was a dream.
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