Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Oh, I know. I should like to have had you forgive me. You promise to become a first-rate workman. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St.
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