It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. "Pursue him," cried Thames to the attendants, "and see that he does not escape. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. ’ ‘Pah!’ ‘Precisely. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. Once more he was the searcher. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned.
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