Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. She did this to please him. She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. This was enough for the poor widow.
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