She told the porter to take it to the booking-office, and it was only after a disconcerting moment or so that she found she ought to have directed him to go to the cloak-room. The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. " "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. "The natives have foolish ways of saying things.
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