Ethel Watts Mumford

“ Then, turning with a radiant smile to the vicomtesse, she nodded with an odd, familiar dignity. “Thank your horoscope, or whatever it is you thank when you have cause, that you have no daughter!”
Margot looked up, contrition upon her beautiful, down-drooping mouth, innocence in her eyes, the dimple smoothed away. “I promise you, I will not annoy you any more after this, mother—and I beg your pardon.”
“Mon Dieu!” exclaimed the old lady, “will the sky fall? Will the river run inland? Margot, upon my soul, you are extraordinary! Cease your joking. Ha! ha! ”

“ She ordered the strongest horses to be put to the carriage, for she was determined to place as many miles as possible between her guest and the mysterious influences that governed La Bonbonnière. By driving fast, one could reach the turn to Coligny on the Dieppe road in an hour; then to the Croix de Berueval, Gontreau, and the long road home. She was fighting for distance as a condemned man fights for time. It was her only hope that she might pass beyond the influence of the unknown atmosphere—a chance, but the only plan that offered promise of success. ”

“ They have come back in you, in Margot, in your whole household! You have been pushed aside—they have made themselves manifest—perhaps not even their true spirits, but some persistent part of the atmosphere they created has accomplished this. It is a mystery within a mystery. But now you are yourself again—and you must act! You cannot allow this to go on—this unnatural, this uncanny illusion. You must fight for yourselves, your very souls! Fight? No!—flight, is the only thing! Can one fight supernatural forces? Or, if it be natural, can one resist infection in the very air one breathes? ”