“This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. 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. ” “We are,” said Ann Veronica.
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