He became angry. "I thought you were asleep. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. What would happen when next morning she returned to Morningside Park? He couldn’t turn her out of doors. That wasn’t even the worst thing. The audience clapped more heartily.
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