The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. You are more in my power than I am in yours. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. ” “You haven’t answered my question. ” He pointed to Ennison, who in his turn looked across at Anna. I packed so hurriedly that it will take me a long time to find my things.
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