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He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. I was mean to him. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. “I suppose things have changed?” she said. Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace.
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