Arthur was next to me, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have fallen.
When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us.

Lucy's eyes in form and colour, but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew.

At that moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing.

Had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight.

As she looked, her eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed with a voluptuous smile.