Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. Running his hand carefully over it in search of the lock, he perceived to his dismay that it was fastened on the other side. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes.
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