Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him. I am a physician first, which gives the man in me a secondary part. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt.
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