“What are you doing?” He cried. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. She leaned back as he climbed on top of her and kissed her mouth again. She had viewed them askance, and without exchanging ideas with any one else in the world about them. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again.
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