The mantelshelf itself supported a clock, a pair of bronze candlesticks, a movable calendar, a bottle of paste, and a wooden box with _For the Little Ones_ painted on it in black letters.
All this the child took in almost at a glance, and notwithstanding that the room was dark.

Yet it had two large windows, and they were curtainless.

Its gloom came of the thick coating of dirt on their upper panes, and a couple of wire blinds that cut off all light below.
Doctor Glasson had walked straight to his desk, and stood for a few moments with his back to the child, fingering his papers and apparently engaged in thought.

By-and-by he picked up a pair of spectacles, turned, and adjusted them slowly whilst he stared down on her.
"Where did you get this information ?" Tilda's first impulse was to show him her scrap of paper, but she thought better of it.

She would keep it back while she could, as a possible trump card.