She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. “Drugs, mainly. Your name. 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.
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