The Angel of Terror Illustrated

The driver leant over the shining apron which partially protected him from the weather, and shouted: "Is Miss Beale there?" The girl started in surprise, taking a step toward the cab. "I am Miss Beale," she said. "Your editor has sent me for you," said the man briskly. The editor of the Megaphone had been guilty of many eccentric acts. He had expressed views on her drawing which she shivered to recall. He had aroused her in the middle of the night to sketch dresses at a fancy dress ball, but never before had he done anything so human as to send a taxi for her. Nevertheless, she would not look at the gift cab too closely, and she stepped into the warm interior. The windows were veiled with the snow and the sleet which had been falling all the time she had been in the theatre. She saw blurred lights flash past, and realised that the taxi was going at a good pace. She rubbed the windows and tried to look out after a while