A RECKLESS RECRUIT She lay across a chair, her arms helplessly stretched out, her face unseen.

Every now and then a thrill ran through her body: she was talking to herself all the time with incessant low incontinence of words.
Philip stood near her, motionless: he did not know whether she was conscious of his presence; in fact, he knew nothing but that he and she were sundered for ever; he could only take in that one idea, and it numbed all other thought.
Once more her baby cried for the comfort she alone could give.
She rose to her feet, but staggered when she tried to walk; her glazed eyes fell upon Philip as he instinctively made a step to hold her steady.

No light came into her eyes any more than if she had looked upon a perfect stranger; not even was there the contraction of dislike.

Some other figure filled her mind, and she saw him no more than she saw the inanimate table.

That way of looking at him withered him up more than any sign of aversion would have done.
He watched her laboriously climb the stairs, and vanish out of sight; and sat down with a sudden feeling of extreme bodily weakness.
The door of communication between the parlour and the shop was opened.