Nothing at all. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. ” “Well?” Anna remarked calmly. His eyes were red. “But it still misses the nucleolus. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. He filled the rôle of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not utterly as he would have liked.
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