The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. Such ambitions as he had were stereotyped and material. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me.
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