” The lights were lowered, and an attentive waiter hovered round Anna’s cloak. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. "I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. She was nearly dead. Her greatest exploit was the howling before the mid-day meal. She thought her niece very hard and very self-possessed and self-confident.
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