‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. ” “No. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. . After all, old P. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. Remember what the conjuror said.
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