"Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. ‘You do not use your head, Emile,’ she said flatly. “I do not blame him. Those grand designs in the dome of St. “Don’t let them know I’m here.
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