She limited herself to eating once a fortnight, until she discovered that she could go without comfortably for a month. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. He did not notice that Ann Veronica was preoccupied and heavy-eyed. She was not a Christian woman. She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.
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