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. He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed. “Did she? I’m sorry, Mike. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. “I’m sorry. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. But pathologically, he is still on the edge. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things.
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