She is no longer mine; she is yours. The perception of him flooded her being. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. Enjoy. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. I should have known at a glance if it was. "I will not submit to be thus interrogated," said Winifred, angrily. How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. She told us that it was a disguise. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. I had no idea!” She sat down abruptly and threw her wrists limply upon the table.
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