"Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return. We fixed that. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. When it came time to eat once again, she hid out on the beach, a remote fastness beyond the city walls, a swampy morass that everyone avoided. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals.
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