Prior to the great adventure, her mirrors had been the still pools in the rocks after the ebb. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. One thing may be a necessary collateral of the others. " "What's the matter?" remarked Kneebone, addressing Sheppard, who, as he caught the single but piercing eye of Jackson fixed upon him, started and trembled. She hesitated about her name, and, being prompted, gave it at last as Ann Veronica Smith, 107A, Chancery Lane.
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