I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. He knew she would be there, practicing alone in 118. I do—with all my heart. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. . “I don’t see why not,” he answered. ‘But that is easy.
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