His wife approached. It was not quite dark in the room, for a glimmer came from the opposite houses.
‘What’s the matter? Can’t you do anything?’
‘I haven’t written a word to-day. At this rate, one goes crazy. Come and sit by me a minute, dearest.’
‘I’ll get the lamp.’
‘No; come and talk to me; we can understand each other better.’
‘Nonsense; you have such morbid ideas. I can’t bear to sit in the gloom.’
At once she went away, and quickly reappeared with a reading-lamp, which she placed on the square table in the middle of the room.
‘Draw down the blind, Edwin.’
She was a slender girl, but not very tall; her shoulders seemed rather broad in proportion to her waist and the part of her figure below it. The hue of her hair was ruddy gold; loosely arranged tresses made a superb crown to the beauty of her small, refined head. Yet the face was not of distinctly feminine type; with short hair and appropriate clothing, she would have passed unquestioned as a handsome boy of seventeen, a spirited boy too, and one much in the habit of giving orders to inferiors. Her nose would have been perfect but for ever so slight a crook which made it preferable to view her in full face than in profile; her lips curved sharply out, and when she straightened them of a sudden, the effect was not reassuring to anyone who had counted upon her for facile humour. In harmony with the broad shoulders, she had a strong neck; as she bore the lamp into the room a slight turn of her head showed splendid muscles from the ear downward. It was a magnificently clear-cut bust; one thought, in looking at her, of the newly-finished head which some honest sculptor has wrought with his own hand from the marble block; there was a suggestion of ‘planes’ and of the chisel. The atmosphere was cold; ruddiness would have been quite out of place on her cheeks, and a flush must have been the rarest thing there.
Her age was not quite two-and-twenty; she had been wedded nearly two years, and had a child ten months old.