She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. "Fear!" echoed Wild, in a terrible tone,—"fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time.
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