‘I broke in. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. “I am only sorry that I did not ask you to go with me. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. .
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