’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. It was—in connection with this man Hill. Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking. He had grabbed her in the stream, embracing her naked body tightly, running his hands over her breasts and clutching her buttocks. At a little distance from the party, sat a tall, sinister-looking personage, with harsh inflexible features, a gaunt but muscular frame, and large bony hands. ‘En tout cas, it is not reasonable that I could be at all in love with him. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. Immeasurable disgust possessed her.
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