Лето

           Shecouldnolongerbelievethatshewasthebeingwhohadlivedthem;shewassomeonetowhomsomethingirreparableandoverwhelminghadhappened,butthetracesofthestepsleadinguptoithadalmostvanished.

           WhenthetrainreachedNettletonandshewalkedoutintothesquareatMr.Royall’ssidethesenseofunrealitygrewmoreoverpowering.ThephysicalstrainofthenightanddayhadleftnoroominhermindfornewsensationsandshefollowedMr.Royallaspassivelyasatiredchild.Asinaconfuseddreamshepresentlyfoundherselfsittingwithhiminapleasantroom,atatablewitharedandwhitetable-clothonwhichhotfoodandteawereplaced.HefilledhercupandplateandwheneversheliftedhereyesfromthemshefoundhisrestingonherwiththesamesteadytranquilgazethathadreassuredandstrengthenedherwhentheyhadfacedeachotherinoldMrs.Hobart’skitchen.Aseverythingelseinherconsciousnessgrewmoreandmoreconfusedandimmaterial,becamemoreandmoreliketheuniversalshimmerthatdissolvestheworldtofailingeyes,Mr.Royall’spresencebegantodetachitselfwithrockyfirmnessfromthiselusivebackground.Shehadalwaysthoughtofhim—whenshethoughtofhimatall—asofsomeonehatefulandobstructive,butwhomshecouldoutwitanddominatewhenshechosetomaketheeffort.