"You ran around the house to the lane, and entered it by the turn-stile."
"Yes, and so quickly that I had time to splash myself with mud and lose all my natural characteristics before any one came to find me. It was Anitra they met, panting and disheveled, at the head of the lane; Anitra in appearance, Anitra in heart. I did not act a part; I was Anitra; Anitra as I had conceived her. To me she was and is an active, living personality. Whenever I faced you in her character, I thought with her half-educated mind; felt with her half-disciplined heart. I even shut my ears to sounds; I would not hear; half the time I did not. Nor did I fall back into my old ways when I was alone. From the minute Georgian closed her door upon you for the last time, and I darkened my skin in preparation for a permanent assumption of Anitra's individuality, I became the imaginary twin, in thought, feeling, and action. It was my only safeguard. Alas! had I only gone one step further and made myself really deaf!"
The cry was bitterness itself, but it passed unheeded. Mr. Ransom could not speak and Hazen had other cares in mind.
"Where is this woman Bela now?" he asked.
Georgian was too absorbed or too unwilling, to answer.
He repeated the question, this time with an authority she could not resist. Rising slowly, she faced him for one impressive moment.
"My God!" came from her lips in startled surprise. "How pale you are! Sit down or you will fall."
He shook his head impatiently.
"It's nothing. Answer my question. Where is this Bela now?"
"I don't know. She is beyond my reach—and yours. I told her to lose herself. I think she is clever enough to do so. The money I paid her was worth a few years spent in obscurity."