Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him annually about half a million nuts. Besides—there is Sir John. "Ye-ah," said O'Higgins, jovially. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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