“The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. Everything was going to hell. She decided to go out into the London afternoon again and get something to eat in an Aerated Bread shop or some such place, and perhaps find a cheap room for herself. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. And the bedchamber, for which Melusine instantly headed, was almost bright. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone.
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