"I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. One night she apparently fell asleep. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. And, yet, I don't know. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment.
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