"Poor creature!" ejaculated Wood. . ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Everything was going to hell. didn’t have to. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. "She has no secrets from me.
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