He would escape like a weasel out of her hands.

Yet without him her life would trail on lifeless.

Brooding, she touched the flowers.
"Have them!" he said; and he took them out of the jar, dripping as they were, and went quickly into the kitchen.

She waited for him, took the flowers, and they went out together, he talking, she feeling dead.
She was going from him now.

In her misery she leaned against him as they sat on the car.