The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Everything was done in a genteel and ordinary way, but on the other hand, there was no lingering. “Let us sit down for a moment,” he had said.
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