The crowd dispersed in different directions, and most fortunately a heavy shower coming on, put them altogether to flight. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone.
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