Mary hurried to him, and, in the compassion which she inherited long back of Eve, took his hand, the fingers of which were twisting themselves into shapes like tree-roots.
With a hoarse roar, he dashed hers from him, as if it had been a serpent.

She returned to her place, and stood.
"What did you mean by that ?" he said, when he came to himself.

"Do you want to make a fool of me ?" Mary did not understand him, and made no reply.

Another fit came.

This time she kept her distance.
"Come here," he howled; "take my head in your hands." She obeyed.
"Damned nice hands you've got!" he gasped; "much nicer than your mistress's." Mary took no notice.