The ruffian's companions took his part. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir from home for a week to come. CHAPTER XVI. ” His face darkened. Here they would be having lunch.
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