” “For a little time,” she answered. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. CHAPTER XXXI. Sebastian dared not approach her. Sebastian had fetched tallow, which she angrily ordered him not to use, as she suspected its origin was not animal but human. All she had found was the love of this dog. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. In the corner of the room were two hockey-sticks and a tennis-racket, and upon the walls Ann Veronica, by means of autotypes, had indicated her proclivities in art. They had their little dreams about her. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table.
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