The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. “Let’s go.
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