But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the stains on the ground, the villain escaped. He was angry. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. Maggot, whose nerves were more firmly strung, she contented herself with waving her hand affectionately to her lover, and encouraging him by her gestures. She exited solemnly, retrieving and carrying Michelle’s unconscious figure into the forest like a reluctant bridegroom.
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