“What d' you want with him?”
“Have you got any whisky?”
“You've had enough of that stuff.”
Some one was walking along the street outside. She felt that he was listening, crouched ready to run; but the steps went on.
“Look here, Anna,” he said, when he had pulled himself together again. “I'm going to get out of this. I'm going away.”
“All right. You can go for all of me.”
“D'you mean to say you've been asleep all night? You didn't hear anything?”
“Hear what?”
He laughed.
“You'll know soon enough.” Then he told her, hurriedly, that he was going away. He'd come back to get her to promise to follow him. He wasn't going to stay here and—