‘Yes, a very sad story,’ agreed the major. A door slammed. Then, naturally, I went on talking. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. "The poor young man!" she said. White became conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her face.
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