Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. He was speechless. She cocked her head. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. She glared at him with satisfaction. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. “To Hell if we don’t change our ways. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. Earles declared. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door.
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