She was my first love. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. The class laughed, a few putting their hands to their foreheads in a military salute to mock her. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess.
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