The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. “But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed. She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. "Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word.
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