foul.

The very depth of her perplexity puzzled her. She had been in
"tight places" before; had indeed been in so few that were not,
in one way or another, constricting! As she looked back on her
past it lay before her as a very network of perpetual
concessions and contrivings. But never before had she had such
a sense of being tripped up, gagged and pinioned. The little
misery of the cigars still galled her, and now this big
humiliation superposed itself on the raw wound. Decidedly, the
second month of their honey-moon was beginning cloudily ....

She glanced at the enamel led travelling-clock on her dressing
table--one of the few wedding-presents she had consented to
accept in kind--and was startled at the lateness of the hour.
In a moment Nick would be coming; and an uncomfortable sensation
in her throat warned her that through sheer nervousness and
exasperation she might blurt out something ill-advised. The old
habit of being always on her guard made her turn once more to
the looking-glass. Her face was pale and haggard; and having,
by a swift and skilful application of cosmetics, increased its
appearance of fatigue, she crossed the room and softly opened
her husband's door.

He too sat by a lamp, reading a letter which he put aside as she
entered. His face was grave, and she said to herself that he
was certainly still thinking about the cigars.

"I'm very tired, dearest, and my head aches so horribly that
I've come to bid you good-night." Bending over the back of his