She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. I thought Mr. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. It was something that would create a mutual claim, a relationship. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. 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.
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