Captain Roding strode into the parlour. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. "Well, I won't dispute your judgment in such matters, Mr.
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