The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “You!” said Ann Veronica. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly. “But, of course, she may have come from one of the other flats. “It’s my fault.
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