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At this point a carriage with servants in sumptuous liveries was stationed. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. It was Annabel’s.
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