. He bowed awkwardly to Mrs. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. His food lay untouched about his plate. ’ ‘Of Leonardo? Yes, I will tell you. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. " Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry. She had paid her bill, and she had enough left in her purse to pay many such.
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