The Ghost by Arnold Bennet Chapter 13 Page 11

Yvette was by no means an ordinary woman. Her face was at once sinister and attractive, with lines of strength about it; she moved with a certain distinction; she had brains and various abilities; and I imagined her to have been capable of some large action, a first-class sin or a really dramatic self-sacrifice — she would have been ready for either. But of her origin I am to this day as ignorant as of her ultimate fate.

A current of air told me that a window was open.

“I noticed a suspicious-looking man outside just now,” I said. “Is he one of your confederates? Have you been communicating with him?”

She sat down in an armchair, leaned backwards, and began to hum an air — la, la, la.