This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. “I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. 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. It was explosive and gratifying.
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