Why were you following Valade?’ She shrugged and turned away, moving as if to seek escape among the bookshelves all about one corner of the room. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. What matters it? My servant, he is wounded—and by a Frenchman, if you wish to make an arrest. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. My sister made me over, you know.
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