“And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. My little maidservant will think that I am lost. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors. It was a dismal and depressing sight to see a great city thus suddenly overthrown; and the carpenter was deeply moved by the spectacle.
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