There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. ‘What a fate he finds for me. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. I cannot live without you, Anna. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. You're alone, too, child. I think not, Annabel. ” She breathed an inner sigh of relief. “Mr.
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