Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. I will give you all some tea, and then I must leave you for a few minutes. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create yet. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs.
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