He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. Pah! What a pig is this générale. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. ‘Major Alderley, ma’am, and General Lord Charvill.
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