For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. "Well, who'd have thought of finding it in this unexpected way!" "Don't be too sure till you see it," said the widow. 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. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. Ennison,” she said.
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