Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. “I say!” he cried. I’m a female thing at bottom. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room.
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