mind.

Eve was lying on the bed. She looked very small on the bed, smaller than
usual. At the sound of the door opening she said, without moving her
head--he could not see her face from the door:

"Is that you, Arthur?"

"Yes, what's the matter?"

"Just put my cloak over my feet, will you?"

He came forward and took the cloak off a chair.

"What's the matter?" he repeated, arranging the cloak.

"I'm not hurt, dearest, I assure you I'm not--not at all." She was
speaking in a faint, weak voice, like a little child's.

"Then you've had an accident?"

She glanced up at him sideways, timidly, compassionately, and nodded.

"You mustn't be upset. I told Machin to go on with her work and not to
say anything to you about it. I preferred to tell you myself. I know how
sensitive you are where I'm concerned."

Mr. Prohack had to adjust his thoughts, somewhat violently, to the new
situation, and he made no reply; but he was very angry about the mere
existence of motor-cars. He felt that he had always had a prejudice