White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. In this screen, which masked the entrance of a dark passage communicating with the Condemned Hold, about five feet from the ground, was a hatch, protected by long spikes set six inches apart, and each of the thickness of an elephant's tusk. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo.
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