"Effie! What the devil are you up to?"
Her husband's voice, chopping through her mood of terrified rapture, made her heart jump like a startled cat, yet by some miracle of feminine self-control her body did not show a tremor.
Dear God, she thought, he mustn't see it. It's so beautiful, and he always kills beauty.
"I'm just looking at the Moon," she said listlessly. "It's green."
Mustn't, mustn't see it. And now, with luck, he wouldn't. For...
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