. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. “I think,” he said, “that some one ought to warn her. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. And would you mind hurrying a little.
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