Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. She swallowed hard. ” “Better say six,” Mr. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here.
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