" Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. Lucy's ears were singing. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars.
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