For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. Very romantic and all that. It was the gratification of an immense necessity. I didn’t understand. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him.
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