Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it. Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. He was into the passage in time to see her slip into another chamber at the end. ” “I still——” Anna stopped short.
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