It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. "It looks as though, we should go together," he said, pulling her toward him. However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse. Or at least he did the day before yesterday. Creative work appeals to me wonderfully. Ah!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob in the wall, "there's the spring!" He touched it, and the door flew open. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob.
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