Marjorie Bowen

“ Their eyes met; Theirry's were the first to falter; he muttered something like a malediction on himself, lifted the latch and strode away. Dirk had not been long alone when the door was pushed open and Nathalie crept in.
The witch came to the table, took up the youth's passive hand and fawned over it. "Let him go," she said in an insinuating voice. "He is a fool."
"Why, I have put no strain on him to stay," Dirk smiled faintly. "But he will return." ”

“ Theirry stood still to front him. "I cannot love that which—I fear."
Dirk went swiftly very pale. "Do you—fear me, Theirry?" he asked wistfully.
"Ay, ye know too much of Satan's lore—more than you ever taught me," he shuddered uncontrollably; "there are things in this very house——"
"What do you mean—what do you mean?" Dirk rose in his place.
"Who is the woman?" whispered Theirry fearfully; "there is a woman here——"
"In this house there are none save Nathalie and me," answered Dirk on the defensive, his eyes dark and glowing. ”

“ Warn whom you will, say what you will; save, if ye can, Melchoir of Brabant; begone, see, I seek not to detain you. One day you shall come back to me, when yon soft saint fails, and I shall be waiting for you ”