The Wastrel did not relish this. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr. Anna——” Again she stopped him, but this time it was not so easy. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. ‘And I am thinking now that you may be very suitable.
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