It was easy enough to lie to anyone else. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald.
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