She's not to know.

She must never know." In his sudden fit of passion he sprang to his feet and towered over me with clenched fists,--the sputtering flames casting a weird Brocken shadow on wall and ceiling of the fog-darkened room--I shrank into my chair, for he seemed not a man but one of the primal forces of nature.

He shouted in the same deep, shaken voice.
"Adrian is dead.

The child is dead.

But the book lives.