He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. It was an odd room, used principally for the reception of guests and visiting dignitaries, packed from end to end with ill-assorted sofas and padded chairs. “Now replace the stone, my child. She would lure him, as he was an easily tempted child predator who could even more easily be turned into prey. We had not then recovered from the shock. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded.
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