Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. But there was an abiding serpent in this Eden. “I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon. “What do you mean?” she asked. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. Never.
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