This way, Sir Rowland. A little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. “You had only to ask——” “Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied for your sake. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. There was no need to be afraid for me. One hour later she had gone back to the mission—without the salt. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears.
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