She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. ’ Roding allowed that he had a point, and followed him as he began to mount the stairs. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. ToC The ward into which Jack was endeavouring to break was called the Red Room, from the circumstance of its walls having once been painted in that colour; all traces of which had, however, long since disappeared.
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