“You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. I am come to serve you. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. ‘And if he is dead I know not.
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