175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. Would you mind?" She wanted another kiss, but she did not know how to go about it; so she satisfied the hunger by pressing his hands to her thundering heart. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. After that consolations fled. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. And if he would, I would not subject him to the annoyance. ‘I must, for that the pig has already gone to monsieur le baron. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other.
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