” There came a silence again. ” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. ” “Well?” “I went from Anna’s flat to Nigel Ennison’s rooms. A nod was exchanged. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. Fiercely defensive, as usual. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured. Blood and bone, body and spirit, she is selfish through and through. ” “No. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. Her senses were prickled when she felt a new pair of eyes upon her. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow.
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