’ Melusine’s voice petered out. I wanted something alive. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. Very well. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. But not today. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion.
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