Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. ‘Do not mix yourself in mine, and perhaps you will not die. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey.
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