Mike answered the door while still toweling his hands dry. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. " Gravely he watched the needle flash to and fro.
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