"I don't know what his idea was. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. “I’m not so sure. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror.
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