” Lucy added, growing weary. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. ” He turned upon her almost fiercely. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. Oh dear!—oh dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. He would be off her case just as soon as his fever for her broke and he found a lover, and she imagined he must have plenty of girls from ritzy families lining up to choose from.
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