Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. She's not for pleasure, but for work. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling.
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