He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. This was just what he needed. The chief influence was her awakening sense of the need of money. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. "So it appears," replied Marvel. A true nun. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea.
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