At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. ” “May I ask,” Anna said softly, “what you presume to have been the nature of my errand here this evening?” Sir John pointed to Annabel, who was as yet utterly limp. Why not? Quite willing.
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