“That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. A kind but hard looking female officer named Rose took her into a room and sat her down at a small wooden table. It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. Ennison?” Sir John hesitated. Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on the stairs. She was guided into the dock and prompted by a helpful police inspector. \" She said, bashful.
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