She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for. “There’s no delusions, so far as I know,” said Ann Veronica. Manning,” she began. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback.
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