loister of Nimbschen; but Louise responded very languidly, and he had
to coax and persuade. By the time she was ready to leave the untidy
room, the morning was more than half over, and the shifting clouds had
balled themselves into masses. Before the two emerged from the wood, an
even network of cloud had been drawn over the whole sky; it looked like
rain.

They walked as usual in silence, little or nothing being left to say,
that seemed worth the exertion of speech. Each step cost Louise a
visible effort; her arms hung slack at her sides; her very hands felt
heavy. The pallor of her face had a greyish tinge in it. Maurice began
to regret having hurried her out against her will.

They were on a narrow path skirting a wood, when she suddenly expressed
a wish for some tall bulrushes that grew beside a stream, some distance
below. Maurice went down to the edge of the water and began to cut the
rushes. But the ground was marshy, and the finest were beyond his reach.

On the path at the top of the bank, Louise stood and followed his
movements. She watched his ineffectual efforts to seize the further
reeds, saw how they slipped back from between his hands; she watched
him take out his knife and open it, endeavour once more to reach those
he wanted, and, still unsuccessful, choose a dry spot to sit down on;
saw him take off his boots and stockings, then rise and go cautiously
out on the soft ground. Ages seemed to pass while she watched him do
these trivial things; she felt as if she were gradually turning to
stone as she stood. How long he was about it! How deliberately he
moved! And she had the odd sensation, too, that she knew beforehand
everything he would and would not do, just as if she had experienced it
already. His movements were of an impossible circumstantiality, out of
all proportion to the trifling service she had asked of him; for, at
heart, she cared as little about the rushes as about anything else. But
it was an unfortunate habit of his, and one she noticed more and more
as time went on, to make much of paltry details, which, properly,
should have been dismissed without a second thought. It implied a
certain tactlessness, to underline the obvious in this fashion. The
very way, for instance, he stretched out his arm, unclasped his knife,
leant forward, and then stooped back to lay the cut reeds on the bank.
Oh, she was tired!--tired to exasperation!--of his ways and actions--as
tired as she was of his words,