He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans. "I cannot do it. “In a sense—yes. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. ’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. She felt sickeningly empty.
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