‘Home?’ ‘To your family. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. "Is it poison?" she asked. 1. She pulled, he rose to his feet.
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