She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. "I'm never satisfied with a first attempt.
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