Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip.
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