’ Melusine could not suppress a smile. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. The assemblage was for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to present much of novelty, in whatever form it was exhibited. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. Dim souls flitted about her, not only speaking but it would seem even thinking in undertones.
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