The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. ’ ‘Like your father,’ Gerald put in deliberately. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. Smith had never seen anything like it.
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