Mrs. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. 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. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly.
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