That is what I’ve had on my conscience. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. you did what you had to do. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. I HAD to. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman.
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