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. A minute pressure inwards showed him that it was not locked. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door.
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