’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. But the Remenhams in the days of Charles the First, with the need for an escape route from Cromwell’s increasingly victorious forces, had cut a trapdoor through its floor into the cellars below, and thence hewn the long rough passageway that led underground right outside the boundary of the estate. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor.
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