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Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. Book. “Let’s go home. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was.
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