" "I hope not," replied Wild. His mind seemed to be a remarkably full one; his knowledge of detailed reality came in just where her own mind was most weakly equipped. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. ’ The smile vanished. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do. I have been in torment all the while to know whether it was to Anna or to Annabel that you were making love so charmingly. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. “All right so far,” she said to herself. In the upper hall he paused to listen. “Turn me.
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