The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. He bore it as long as he could, watching all the time with fascinated eyes Annabel moving gracefully about amongst her guests, always gay, with a smile and a whisper for nearly everybody. “I really owe him something of an apology. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. ” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw.
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