One of Joan's earliest recollections was the picture of herself standing before the high cheval glass in her mother's dressing-room.

Her clothes lay scattered far and wide, falling where she had flung them; not a shred of any kind of covering was left to her.

She must have been very small, for she could remember looking up and seeing high above her head the two brass knobs by which the glass was fastened to its frame.

Suddenly, out of the upper portion of the glass, there looked a scared red face.

It hovered there a moment, and over it in swift succession there passed the expressions, first of petrified amazement, secondly of shocked indignation, and thirdly of righteous wrath.