“Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. He had known she would be shocked, but he was equally certain Melusine would have refused to see her grandfather had she been forewarned. 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. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven.
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