[Logcheck-devel] enlist hanker

[Montagu Delacruz]

The sun had gone down, and there wasa reddish glow. The rector backed into the curtains, as if the girl menaced himwith something fearful.
It was aback room with two windows, one on each side the great chimney-flue. He laid hishand on this shivering mound, as if for company. Her heart, in itsstroke, now rang hard as his hammer upon his copper, beatingagainst circumstances. The rector and the two girls stayed on at the Framleys, till a newhome could be found. There was a little oval brass plate, with a queer figure like apalm-tree beaten upon it.
Then she looked at him, and her facewas more puzzled than anything.
But it was more remote, the boldness was diminished.
It was Bob Framley who said:You know, I think that gipsy deserves a medal. I suppose theres nobody in the otherrooms?
The few March days were lovely,and she let them slip.
It fell like the slaves collar over his neck,finally. He dragged her nearer till her one hand caught his leg.
She usually came for lunch, and left after anearly tea. Oh ICANT cry for the Mater, now Yvette is spared!
There was a little oval brass plate, with a queer figure like apalm-tree beaten upon it. The fear,the great cold fear of the base-born, her father, everything humanand swarming. She-who-was-Cynthia had beenlike this: a snowflower. She lived as usual, went out to her friends, to parties, and dancedwith the undiminished Leo.
And she felt too lazy, too lazy, too lazy.
Ahusband was never more than a semicasual thing!
Almost she could have found in her heartto go with him, and be a pariah gipsy-woman. Before she could think twice, it was near, a roaring cliff ofwater.
He was partly flattered, secretly triumphant,but abjectedly. She would live on like these higher reptiles, in a state ofsemi-coma, forever.
While thegleam of spring sun lasted, she would be out of doors. He looked at her in hate, as if he could kill her. It always had been one of thecompressed sort. The vice-like grip of his arms round her seemed to her the onlystable point in her consciousness. Time being, after all, only the current of the soul in its flow.
He was powerless against the lowest insinuations ofhis own mind.
And again she looked at the swollen river breaking angrily as itcame round the bend.
While thegleam of spring sun lasted, she would be out of doors. And again she looked at the swollen river breaking angrily as itcame round the bend.
It was March, andsunny weather, after unheard-of rain. But still there came asmell of sulphur from far-away steelworks, out of the steel-bluesky. 
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