” “Yes, I believe that was the name. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. . “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. ’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. Listen, it is I. She has no proof—yet. Both started. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night.
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