“Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. They flash to and fro, they thrill us with expectancy. But I proved it to them! Oh yeah, I told John, but I don’t think he believes me either. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. ‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to arrest the young lady for?’ ‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced Roding fluently. “The rest,” she said, holding tightly to his hands, “is the most important of all. One day I can be a Gothic chick, and the next day I’ll be Hitler Youth.
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