‘She wants you. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. “We will convince him now to the contrary,” Annabel answered. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend.
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