. . “I don’t know, John. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. "I am not to be deceived. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. \"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Shari. \" She was never hungry for human food. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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