"Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. There's the paragraph. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. "I told you I was not unprotected. ‘I trust you are cursing Valade, and not Melusine. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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