It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. “You vixen!” said Mr. ” Annabel looked at him curiously. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe.
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