She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. Most of the time, he was hunting and he returned at night. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. He shook his head. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. It was difficult to get right. Wood. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear.
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