"You want me, then?" she said. What has she to with Constance Trenchard?" "Mrs. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. ” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. “It was inevitable,” he declared.
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