E. Nigel Ennison was he. ’ ‘I think he only wants to help you, miss,’ offered Jack. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. Wood in the deepest mourning. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed.
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