Again that drugged feeling was upon her, that sense of being bound by a spell, and now she knew that the spell was evil.

Once or twice her brain stirred a little when Peter offered his silent help, and she thanked him and accepted it while scarcely realizing what she did.

But for the most part she remained in that state of awful quiescence, the inertia of one about whom the toils of a pitiless Fate were closely woven.

There was no escape for her.

She knew that there could be no escape.