The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. And in the vestry was the sword of monsieur le major. The screams of the unfortunate woman had aroused Thames from his slumbers. “I want you to kiss me,” she said. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light.
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