" "I will yield it to no one but its mother," answered Wood. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. ” “Do you mean,” Courtlaw asked, “that from now to the end of the six months you do not wish to see us—any of us?” Her eyes were a little dim again. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he wanted to buy. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe.
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