He rested his brow on his hand and conveyed magnificent tragedy by his pose. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. “Lord!” she said. All these wonderful comrades, henceforth and for ever hers. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom.
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