He sent me home. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. His heart beat wildly and he was afraid lest the strain be too much; but the girl shook her head and smiled and pointed to the top of the mountain. This obstacle, which appeared to preclude the possibility of egress in that quarter, was speedily got rid of. Phillips Oppenheim *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNA THE ADVENTURESS *** ***** This file should be named 26596-h. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable.
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