He looked the boy over with interest. Better they should find the so-called Valade. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. Would you tell her … now?" his eyes flaming with mockery. ’ ‘Eh bien. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions.
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