Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. “It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t. ” The maid discreetly withdrew, and Anna stood transfixed, gazing with puzzled frown at her sister. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house.
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