Explore "Afterward" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It leaped out at her suddenly, like a grin out of the dark, that they / had often called England so little -- "such a confoundedly hard place to / get lost in."
_A confoundedly hard place to get lost in! _ That had been her husband's / phrase. And now, with the whole machinery of official investigation / sweeping its flash-lights from shore to shore, and across the dividing / straits; now, with Boyne's name blazing from the walls of every town / and village, his portrait (how that wrung her! ) hawked up and down the / country like the image of a hunted criminal; now the little compact, / populous island, so policed, surveyed, and administered, revealed itself / as a Sphinx-like guardian of abysmal mysteries, staring back into his / wife's anguished eyes as if with the malicious joy of knowing something / they would never know!