She came slowly towards him, drawn like a moth towards that semicircle of candle.

Her hair hung down her back like a girl's, and the white dressing-gown which floated diaphanously about her was unexpectedly reminiscent of Bond Street.
"You are not afraid ?" she asked anxiously.

"See, I have nothing in my hands.

I almost think that the desire has gone.

You remember the little stiletto I had last night?
To-day I threw it into the well.