She looked 57 forward to when Sebastian visited. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. The Burglary at Dollis Hill.
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