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. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. Things haven't gone quite as smoothly as I anticipated; but they might have been worse. " "What's the matter?" remarked Kneebone, addressing Sheppard, who, as he caught the single but piercing eye of Jackson fixed upon him, started and trembled.
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