Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. " "Not for worlds!" exclaimed both ladies together. The door to the room in question was closed. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them.
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