The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. Then she moved towards the door. She chose to hold her nose. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. “I believe it is. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. . You are much more like what I was then. His face clouded with anger. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned.
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