Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. Please don’t let any one know that. You are not ‘Alcide. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. The address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space. "Is the governor within?" "Yes; you'll find him in the audience-chamber. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition.
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