” “He imposed on me,” Annabel continued. . . “They never seem so at first!” he said. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. A vast indifference settled down upon him. 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.
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