‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. 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. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. ” “Who are you?” “I am a friend of Miss Pellissier’s,” Courtlaw answered. Wood.
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