Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. Rummage, my boy, do. “Well, make sure you use something. ‘Good. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. Sometimes they marry well.
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