It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. He then descended; and having induced Bess to take off some part of her clothing, he tore the gown and petticoat into shreds and twisted them into a sort of rope which he fastened to the lower bars of the window.
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