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He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. "Oh, Gemini!" she exclaimed. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. "One of us has got to die," he panted.
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