She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. But I am here.
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