Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. When he was concentrating, deep shadows formed under his gray eyes. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. Go for it. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. “The walk has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five o’clock.
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