Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. “I must confess,” he said, “the New Woman and the New Girl intrigue me profoundly. "We'll see that, you yelping hounds!" rejoined Jonathan, glaring fiercely at them. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. As a matter of fact, I had never spoken to him before in my life. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. She licked his neck, which put him over the top.
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