I was a novelty. Lucilla broke across Melusine’s thoughts. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. Ah, if I had written that!" "Don't you want to live?" "I don't know; I really don't know. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved.
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