He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. That's slang, meaning you're splendid. Lucy wore it every day from then on. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. . “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish.
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