She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. Do not underestimate my power. ‘There is no one who could have told him this. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below.
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