“What do you mean?” she asked. I have known Miss Pellissier as long as any of you perhaps, and I have seen something of her since her arrival in London. I want to love him. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. I hated the stuff.
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