.

.

but surely such an object could have been gained at less sacrifice, and with far less trouble than constant incessant acting of an unnatural part.
She looked round her quite aimlessly now: she was horribly puzzled, and a nameless dread, before all this strange, unaccountable mystery, had begun to seize upon her.

She felt cold and uncomfortable suddenly in this severe and dark room.

There were no pictures on the wall, save the fine Boucher portrait, only a couple of maps, both of parts of France, one of the North coast and the other of the environs of Paris.