The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. He was looking pale and ill. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. She has already forgotten it. ‘Come, cry a truce. She had underestimated his animal ability to sense weakness. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses.
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