“Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair. The room in which he was detained—that lately occupied by the Mohocks, who, it appeared, had been allowed to depart,—was calculated to inspire additional apprehension and disgust. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. ‘He told me everything, if you mean Gerald. It was not a difficult affair. David Courtlaw. Ennison!” He released her. He started toward the dog with the idea of ejecting him, but Ruth intervened. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. It would not have interested him in the least to learn that the tub ran on two powers—wind and oil.
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