She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. Of course there are, millions of them. Her companion was a person of no inferior condition. I want to do something. She must kill this man, or kill herself.
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