Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. He took a sip of punch and commenced his relation. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear.
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