"I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. The night was now profoundly dark. A wrathful God was watching him. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. “Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper.
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