Mr. Life waits for us. ” He stood still, looking at her. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. ” “It offered from fifteen to two-and-twenty shillings a week—for drudgery. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. Saviour's Stairs. An ancient smile lay on his lips. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol.
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