Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. .
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