” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. ’ She thrust him into the aperture, and pushed the hilt of the sword into his hand. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him.
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