_He_ knew that I--that I, who patronised him, was a person to stand well with because of my--my sister's hold over de Mersch.

I wasn't, of course, but you can't understand how the whole thing maddened me all the same.

I hated the world--this world of people who whispered and were whispered to, of men who knew and men who wanted to know--the shadowy world of people who didn't matter, but whose eyes and voices were all round one and did somehow matter.

I knew well enough how it had come about.

It was de Mersch--the State Founder, with his shamed face and his pallid hands.