Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. Somehow. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step.
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