Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. ” And while he talked and watched her as he talked, she answered, and behind her listening watched and thought about him. “Young lady! Are you sure you’re of legal age to be smoking those cigarettes?” “No, I’m not of legal age.
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