There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. “Turn me. \" Lucy replied, truly amazed. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. “Dear husband,” she murmured.
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