The vague classical dress told nothing.

But the face--whose was it ?--and the long black hair?
She raised her eyes towards an old mirror on the wall in front, then dropped them to the drawing again, in a sudden horror of recognition.

And the piteous figure on the ground, with the delicate woman's hand ?--Lucy caught her breath.

It was as though the blow at her heart, which Manisty had averted the night before, had fallen.
Then she became aware that Eleanor had turned round upon her seat at the piano, and was watching her.
'I was looking at this strange drawing,' she said.

Her face had turned a sudden crimson.