She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much. Suddenly Ah Cum laughed aloud.
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