The flat was apparently empty. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. ‘There you have soldiers. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. You would not have believed me, I know well. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. Besides, she had admitted her identity. For a time she promenaded the room. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. “He tried it. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat.
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