" "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. 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. 276 He opened the box. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. ” He looked at her with white, set face.
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