But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She was alone with a deadly enemy. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. ” For a moment she was grave. Capes stood beside Miss Stanley, who was beaming unnaturally, and Mr. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. You know I call that positively wicked.
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