8. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. And, lastly, there's Mr. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. He could quite understand the daughter of Mr. ‘Do not beg my pardon. ' He muttered it continually. Give me the keys and the light.
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