” “Annabel is a prophetess,” he declared. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. Anna herself opened the hall door. The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. I sat within a few feet of him. ’ ‘Yes, but I need a word with Gerald,’ protested the captain, hanging back. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus.
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