"Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. . He felt her relaxation and let go of her wrists.
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