" As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. 32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. Sir John stood upon the threshold. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. ” “I met you accidentally,” he reminded her. ” “I am sure,” Lady Lescelles said, gently, “that the last consideration need not weigh with you in the least. It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. ’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. " "That's but a short distance from here, sir.
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