“I’ll have to pay it. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. It’s time she knew. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before.
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