’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. His glasses were gone. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success.
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