“I have spoken too many truths to-night. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. One who steals. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. I bored him. One would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. “Your mother was a Gypsy. Rhea commanded her.
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