"Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement. "There's his knock. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. I love to research, not just for school. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. ” “My feeling in the matter,” Sir John said, “is as I have stated. ‘She gave me four separate identities for herself, you must know, including Prudence, before I managed to get at her real name. .
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