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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. "Raise your vice, and lave off coughin'," added Terence. "I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. He hated horizons. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. Wasn’t easy, I can tell you. . She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. You have been burning paper, I see.
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