I am not prying for my own amusement. Another labyrinth in hell!" A smile broke over the trader's face. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder. His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets.
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