Explore "The Black Abbot" by Edgar Wallace on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
She rose as Gladys brought in the tea tray and laid it carefully on the table. Gladys was sixty, toothless, and more or less chinless. She wore most of her hair in a bun, which overflowed, drooping over her neck in picturesque confusion. Gladys had the smile of one who enjoyed the privilege of entertaining a visitor. She smiled at the girl, smiled at Mr. Gilder, and smiled herself out of the room. Fabrian Gilder thought he had never seen a more ghastly exhibition.
"You're a good friend of Gwyn's, aren't you? " he asked, as he sipped his tea.