" "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. ’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. But it is no longer necessary. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. I'll wait for you down here. But it don't much matter—though he's a devilish shrewd fellow, and might have helped me out of a difficulty, had any occurred. Michelle walked towards the sloping Victorian stairs.
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