The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece. I don’t see how they can be. The decision had been sound. Near as idiot as this capitaine of yours. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them.
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