She interrupted. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. I don't care how lonesome it is. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. But we waste time. We mustn’t make it so. 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. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. Jack hastily retreated, and taking the first means of concealment that occurred to him, descended the cellar steps.
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