“You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. But that bridge was more remarkable than any the metropolis now possesses. I knew it. She cursed Satan and screamed at the heavens, praying to Mary frantically. She gurgled. 70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. He would repeat them innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. "I feel like work," he lied.
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