” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. She ignored his question. All the world before you, all the ologies. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. Even when you've a knave to deal with, let your actions be plain, and above-board. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. A couple of gilt straight-backed chairs only. Not fit to be dust on your boots.
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