She had told Emile. You are all the beauty in the world. The theme was a masquerade. ” “It is very nice of you,” Anna said softly. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. In this state, it will be easy to draw him into a snare. I must leave England to-night.
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