A word had been formed: "APOLLON."
Meanwhile, Isilda clung to both pencil and paper and, with clutching fingers and a strained face, was struggling to make her hand submit to the hesitating orders of her poor little brain.
Lupin waited, feverishly.
She rapidly wrote another word, the word "DIANE."
"Another word! . . . Another word!" shouted Lupin.
She twisted her fingers round the pencil, broke the lead, made a big "J" with the stump and, now utterly exhausted, dropped the pencil.
"Another word! I must have another word!" said Lupin, in a tone of command, catching her by the arm.
But he saw by her eyes, which had once more become indifferent, that that fleeting gleam of intelligence could not shine out again.
"Let us go," he said.
He was walking away, when she ran after him and stood in his path. He stopped: