Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. No; I’m going to stick to the rules. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. “These are for you. "His lordship desires me to say—ough! ough!" Fresh groans and hisses. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. Suddenly she had become afraid. Wood—and after him came his daughter. He would know her address to-morrow.
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