“Well, there’s no need for me to tell you that the Tor-marins have hot tempers! You’ve seen evidences of it in Blaise--that sudden flaming up of anger. Though he has learnt through one most bitter experience to hold himself more or less in check.” She paused a moment, as if her thoughts had reverted painfully to the past. Presently she resumed: “All the Tormarin men have had it--that blazing, uncontrollable kind of temper which simply cannot brook opposition. Blaise’s father had it, and it was that which made our life together so unhappy.” So Destiny had been busy with her snuffers here, also! “You--you, too!” whispered Jean. “I. too?” Lady Anne questioned. “What does that mean?” “Why, it seems to me as if _no one_ is ever allowed to be really happy and to live their life in peace! There is Judith, whose life my father spoilt, and Claire, whose life Sir Adrian spoils--and that means Nick’s life as well. And now--you!” Some unconscious instinct of reticence deep within her forbade the mention of Blaise Tormarin’s name. “I expect we are not meant to be too joyful,” said Lady Anne. “Though, after all, it’s largely our own fault if we are not. We make or mar each other’s happiness; it isn’t all Fate.... But I’ve had my share of happiness, Jean--never think that I haven’t. Afterwards, with Claude, I was utterly happy.” She fell silent for a space, ceasing on that quiet note of happiness. Presently, almost loth to disturb the reverie into which she had fallen, Jean questioned hesitantly: “And the ‘mark of the beast,’ madonna? You were going to tell me about it.”