“It was inevitable,” he declared. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. Simply. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. "I will struggle no longer with destiny. She dare not risk it.
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