" Before proceeding with his task, he considered whether it would be possible to barricade the door; but, reflecting that the bar would be an indispensable assistant in his further efforts, he abandoned the idea, and determined to rely implicitly on that good fortune which had hitherto attended him on similar occasions. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. 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 was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured.
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