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The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Section 3. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver.
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