He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. “I wonder,” said Ann Veronica at last, “if I am beautiful? I wonder if I shall ever shine like a light, like a translucent goddess?— “I wonder— “I suppose girls and women have prayed for this, have come to this—In Babylon, in Nineveh. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech.
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