F. ” “And he sat at my table,” Annabel said bitterly, “and yet he did not know me. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. She assumed with a kind of mesmeric force all the propositions that Ann Veronica wanted her to define. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. Steeples toppled, and towers reeled beneath its fury. Framed in one of the square ports of the packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical mask. The perspiration stood out upon his forehead.
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