He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. “There I can’t help,” said Capes. "Take courage, man; it is only Quilt Arnold. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world. “Non. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion.
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