Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. ’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. ‘It is not possible. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel.
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