It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Mr. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Together they made their painful way to the door, not even checking, in the effort this cost both, on what Gosse might be doing. He waved a cordial goodbye.
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