Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. She went to her own table and sat down. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society.
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