Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. But "fine" is the word. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. “Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he remarked, a little grimly. Wild of the circumstance. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. E. "I couldn't go on!" "You'll need something more than courage now.
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