She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. “Don’t think so,” Drummond answered. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. He wriggled underneath her heaving body, pinned like an insect. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value.
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