The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. ‘Bête. Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. The small predator subconsciously acknowledged the larger one.
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