"My God, what a girl, though! Such lips, such flesh, such...."
"I say, old fellow!" cried Gell.
Victor leapt down and laughed to cover his confusion.
"Well, why not? We're all creatures of earth, aren't we?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DAY OF TEMPTATION
Fenella Stanley had been two and a half years at the head of the Women's Settlement. Her work as Lady Warden had been successful. It had been a great, human, palpitating experience. There were days, and even weeks, when she felt that it had brought her a little nearer to the soul of the universe and helped her to touch hands across the ages with the great women who had walked through Gethsemane for the poor, despoiled and despairing victims of their own sex.
But nevertheless it had left her with a certain restlessness which at first she found it hard to understand. Only little by little did she come to realise that nature, with its almighty voice, was calling to her, and that under all the thrill of self-sacrifice she was suffering from the gnawing hunger of an underfed heart.
The seven years that had passed since her last visit to the island had produced their physical effects. From a slim and beautiful school-girl she had developed into a full and splendid woman. When the ladies of her Committee (matrons chiefly) saw the swing of her free step and the untamed glance of her eye they would say,
"She's a fine worker, but we shall never be able to keep her—you'll see we shall not."