But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. "A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of ammonia. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. Chairs were overturned. “I’ll never be happy again! I hate you! But most of all, what you have made me! A flesh-eating demon cannibal, just like you! I should be dead, dead and lying at the bottom of the sea. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. "You've got to kill me to get out of here alive. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. I will not be persecuted in this way by you.
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