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"What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness. "Come along, my sly shaver. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. (Fifteen pounds! And she wanted forty!) Part 4 It was, perhaps, the natural consequence of a long and tiring and exciting day that Ann Veronica should pass a broken and distressful night, a night in which the noble and self-subduing resolutions of Canongate displayed themselves for the first time in an atmosphere of almost lurid dismay.
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