"Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. The car ride to the new movie theater, a multiplex, was brief and harrowing. White rang the bell.
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