’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin.
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