His arms slowly relaxed, and he let her slide out of his embrace. She sank down wearily upon the pillow, closed her eyes, and for a little while went on talking drowsily and inconsecutively. "Shut up," he said suddenly. "Hold your tongue. I'm thinking." Then almost immediately he turned, and, with his hands upon her shoulders, looked down into her face. "Why didn't you go to church yesterday?" "What did you say, Will?" "I said, why didn't you go to church yesterday?" "Oh--I really didn't care to go." "That wasn't like you--you so fond of the Abbey Church. Did your Aunt go?" "Yes." "You said this afternoon she didn't go." "She did go. I remember now." "Ah! Another thing! That actor-feller--what d'yer call 'im--him that you counted on and didn't find--Chugwun!" "Yes." "You see the name in the paper?" "Yes." "You didn't aarpen t'see it on the boards outside the theater?" "No." She was wide awake and quite sober now. But her limbs were trembling again, and her eyes seemed preposterously large as they stared up at him from the white face. "Will!" And she spoke fast and piteously; "don't look at me like this. What's come to you? Why do you ask me such a pack of questions?" And she tried to laugh. "At such a time of night!" "Bide a bit, my lass. I'm just thinking." Where had the thoughts come from?--out of blank space?--from nowhere? Yet here they were, filling his head, multiplying, expanding, making his blood rattle like boiling water in a tube as it rushed up to nourish their monstrous growth. "Will, let go my shoulders. You hurt. Get into the bed--and be sensible. I'll answer all questions in the morning." "No, I think I'll have the answers now." He went on questioning her, and his hands growing heavier crushed her shoulders so that she thought he would break the bones and joints. "What train did you come up by this morning?" "The nine o'clock." "What! D'you mean you went right across from North Ride to Rodchurch Road?" "Oh, no. I caught it at Manninglea Cross." "Did you, then? An' s'pose I was to tell you the nine o'clock don't stop at Manninglea Cross!" "Will! Loosen your hands. It does stop--it did stop there this morning." "Yes, it did stop--and so it does all mornings. But a fat lot you know about it. And for why? You weren't in it." "I was--I really was. Will--don't go on so cruel." "Oh, but I _am_ going on." He had lowered his face close to hers, and his hot breath beat upon her cold cheeks. "Now, give me the explanation of what you let slip about going through so much these last two days. What was the precise sense o' _that_?" "I only meant I've been so anxious." "Yes, but yer bin anxious best part o' four weeks. What was the mighty difference in yesterday or day before?" "I didn't mean any difference. I scarce knew what I was saying--or what I'm saying now." "Oh! Just a remark let fall without a scrap o' sense in it!"