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. ‘You’re right. But eventually Spurlock laughed. His advice was mostly practical. "I declare you throw me into an ague. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. ‘But the fact remains that you should not have enjoyed it, you were quite right to threaten to kill me, and I— God help me!—should not have kissed you at all. There is no poison that would affect her. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose.
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