Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. Do you think she does?” Ann Veronica picked among her salad with a judicial expression of face. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face.
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