"Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. He stood back and held her shoulders. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed.
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