Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. To O'Higgins—for all his sordid business he was not insensible to beauty—to O'Higgins she appeared to have entered the room with the light. He was an imaginative young man. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls.
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