Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. “No!” he said aloud at last. Habits and tastes are no longer the same.
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