’ Gerald started. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. The shouts of indignation—the frightful yells now raised baffle description. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. Rules are for established things, like the pieces and positions of a game.
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