matter of course; he was going to have that other thing, too--the thing
she had clung to as a man clings to life; and that now, parting from,
she would give up not without a struggle as sharp as that with which the
body gives up breath. She wrestled. He seemed all hands. He put aside
her struggles, her pleadings, as if they were thistle-down.

Then all at once she felt his arm around her neck. She couldn't move her
body. She could only turn her head from his hot breath. For a moment he
held her, and yet another moment; and then, terrified at what this
strange immobility might mean, she raised her eyes and saw he was not
looking at her. Though he held her fast he was not conscious of her.
Straight over her head he looked, through the window and down, into the
garden. Her eyes followed. It lay beneath, the wonder of its morning
aspect all blanched and dim. She saw the silhouette of rose branches in
black on the sky. She saw the flowers and bushes all one dull tone. But
in the midst of them the oval of the path shone white; and there, as in
the afternoon, standing, looking upward, was the dark figure of a man.

Her heart gave a great leap. Just so she'd been summoned once before
that day, but what infernal freak had fetched him back to repeat that
dangerous sally, and brought him finally into his enemy's grasp? She
tried to make a gesture to warn him, and just there Harry released her,
dropped her so that she half fell upon the window-seat, and made a dash
across the room for the light. In a moment they were in darkness. In a
moment, to Flora pressed against the window, the garden sprang clear,
and on the formless figure below the face appeared, white in the
starlight looking up. She cried out in wonder. It was not Kerr. It was
the blue-eyed Chinaman.

After her haunted drive, after her escape, after Shima's search, he was
there, still inexorably there; small, diminished by the great facade of
the house, but looking up at it with his calm eye, surveying it,
measuring its height, numbering its doors, trying its windows. Harry was
beside her again. He was tugging frantically at the window. It resisted.
She saw his hands trembling while he wrestled with it. Then it went
shrieking up and he leaned out.

"What do you want?" he called, and, though he used no name, Flora saw he
knew with whom he was speaking. The Chinaman stood immobile, lifting his
round, white face, whose mouth seemed to gape a little. Harry leaned far
out