Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. We thought of starting in half an hour’s time, and trying for a theatre somewhere on the way. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. I wonder why on earth the curtains are drawn. ” Ramage looked at her, and then fell into deep reflection as the waiter came to paragraph their talk again.
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