There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. ’ Madame ventured a glance up at his face, and fluttered her lashes. Hoped you'd not be retaken. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. ” He said with a laugh. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter.
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