But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. The hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with tenfold fury. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: 1. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. .
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