"So much the better," rejoined Sir Rowland. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. The three young men exchanged expressive glances.
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