‘Ah Gerald,’ she said, in a strong, slow, almost man-like way. ‘-All that, and more.’ Her eyes looked up at him with shocking nonchalance.

He felt again as if she had torn him across the breast, dully, finally. He turned aside.

‘Eat, eat my darling!’ Winifred was softly conjuring the rabbit, and creeping forward to touch it. It hobbled away from her. ‘Let its mother stroke its fur then, darling, because it is so mysterious-’