She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. “Jacques is wounded and we are arrested by this imbecile of a sergeant. I mystify you; I can see that. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection.
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