"Call as you please, beloved girl," he cried, "I will not stir till I am answered. Just as I might have killed another, if he had come out. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia.
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