What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. " "He'll be hanged nevertheless," replied the Hollander, giving his collar an ugly jerk. He caught the smirk. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it.
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