“ Where are the horses? Where are the horses?”
Then smiling a strange smile, his pupil fixed, his teeth set, he advanced with outstretched arms. She recoiled trembling. She stammered:
“ Oh, you frighten me! You hurt me! Let me go!”
“ If it must be,” he went on, his face changing; and he again became respectful, caressing, timid. She gave him her arm. They went back. He said—
“ What was the matter with you? Why? I do not understand. You were mistaken, no doubt. In my soul you are as a Madonna on a pedestal, in a place lofty, secure, immaculate. But I need you to live! I must have your eyes, your voice, your thought! Be my friend, my sister, my angel!”
And he put out his arm round her waist. She feebly tried to disengage herself. He supported her thus as they walked along.
But they
