Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. 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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