It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. Melusine crossed to open it, and immediately the knocking intensified in volume. The will to live had returned.
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