. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. You denied it at the time—but unfortunately I have proof.
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