‘Not here. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. ’ Arrested, Melusine eyed her with interest. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. The Mohocks. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor.
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