Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. He did not have to. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. And he had good reason before long to congratulate himself on his forbearance. Mischief bubbled up in her. He had hurt her. Light the lantern. How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me.
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